The Consequence of Memories
by Sadhana
Summary: A JAM fanfic. ﻿She smiled at him. This could work out, couldn’t it? She deserved happiness, didn’t she? Begins with the end of Cocktails, and will move beyond in later chapters. R&R.
1. That Casino Night

**Author's Note**

I'm writing this because "Cocktails" left so many open doors and six weeks before a new episode, and I need something to do with all my anticipation in the mean time. This is my interpretation of the JAM happenings in Cocktails and beyond. I have to warn you though, I know that some people don't want to know absolutely ANYTHING about upcoming episodes. If you're one of those people, you shouldn't read this fanfic because it's most likely going to incorporate spoilers known about future episodes, particularly the newest upcoming episode (to air on April 5), since this fic is kind of going to be my creative valve for speculation.

--the author

* * *

She smiled at him. This could work out, couldn't it? She deserved happiness, didn't she? Yes, it could all work out, but she had to tell him. She wasn't honest with Jim, and that's why things didn't work out with them. Honesty, she reassured herself. Pam was hardly even nervous, eerily relaxed for what she was about to admit to Roy. He looked at her expectantly, his arms folded across the mahogany bar, and prepared to listen to whatever she had to tell him.

"Remember that Casino Night about a month before we were supposed to get married? I kissed Jim," she confessed. It came out much easier than she had thought it would. Smoothly: her vocal chords didn't tremble, and the wording was fine.

"_What?_" He was shocked. She understood. At least the worst was over. Now, all she had to do was explain herself, but that wasn't nearly as ominous as just getting the truth out there. Pam was actually kind of proud of herself for being so brave. _Courage and honesty aren't my strong points, huh? I'd like for them to see me now_, she thought to herself.

"He told me how he felt, and I guess I had feelings too, and we kissed."

"Jim came _onto you_?" Roy interrupted. His eyebrows twisted into his forehead, and the softness of his brown eyes lost their previous sweetness. He was getting kind of angry, Pam knew the signs all too well.

"Just listen," Pam said to quell his growing temper.

"No, I _am_ listening. That's the problem, I'm listening!" he interjected. His sense of proper behavior in public was shrinking considerably and quickly. The drinks he had over the course of the evening probably weren't helping, but he wasn't even close to drunk yet.

"Don't yell," she mumbled sternly.

"_Don't yell?!_" he shouted in sputters, choking on the words like it was impossible for him to understand how she could possibly expect such cordial behavior from him in the face of what she was announcing.

Roy's face flushed with fury. He could picture it now. That scrawny coward, Jim... he said he would keep an eye on her. He probably laughed to himself about that one, maybe even muttered under his breath, "Yeah, I'll keep an eye on her, alright" in a sardonic tone. The fucking asshole might have even had the whole thing planned out: spend a romantic evening with Pam, flirt with her when Roy's got his back turned, and as soon as he's undoubtedly out of hearing range, tell her you love her as a last bout to steal her away. He hated the thought of it... Jim confessing his love to _his_ fiancé, making a pass at _his_ Pam. And Pam, being as impressionable as she is, crawling into his arms, and Jim ... _kissing her_.

He grabbed the glass in front of him, and threw it at the mirror. The glass shattered, and the words "Poor Richard's Pub: Scranton, PA" splintered in the same way that he wanted to splinter Jim's skull right now. Pam jumped off the bar stool out of instinct, and stared wide-eyed at the man she had trusted so intimately for the past ten years. He pressed his forehead into the heels of his palms, averting his eyes away from that look of stupefied disappointment.

"This is over," she whispered, hurrying past him with her coat folded over her arm.

"Yeah, you're right. This _is_ so over," he said, his voice gaining strength and momentum as he stood up and turned around to watch her leave him... again. Now he understood why Pam had left him before. It was over that Casino Night. And now she was leaving him again, because of that Casino Night. What had she expected him to say? Did she think he would hug her, tell her it doesn't matter, smile? Did she think he _wouldn't_ want to knock a certain someone's teeth in? "Are you KIDDING ME, PAM? C'MON!" he screamed at her in response to his own thoughts as she swung out the pub door.

He couldn't get past the image of _Jim_ kissing her that was painting itself on his mental retina: Jim's eyebrows pinched in relief and desperate longing as his lips meet her's, Pam pulling him in with her arms wrapped around his neck, his hands against the small of her back, holding her steady to him. Roy couldn't stand it. All the thoughts of Jim and Pam holding each other and confessing love to each other invaded his mind, and they wouldn't let him go. Could it have gone farther than a kiss? Did they sleep together? At the very least, that conniving bastard had touched her, held her, and kissed her.

His rage was growing exponentially. It all made his blood boil. The jet ski money. Finding out that Jim and Pam kissed. And now, his girlfriend dumping him. He grabbed anything he could find, and smashed it without thinking. Kenny joined in as some strange show of support, and the two of them were breaking whatever was in front of them. Glasses, stools. Roy couldn't even find the words to yell, only the energy to grunt in frustration. He cursed nonsensically, and had the incurable desire to break everything as a valve for the storm burning in his gut.

Eventually, the passion began to die down. Roy started to glance around him, and found dozens of unnamed faces giving him that same shocked expression Pam gave him just before she walked out the door. The bartender was standing a safe distance away, hurriedly trying to think of what to do. The last of Roy's temper escaped in deep breaths. He grabbed his coat, and walked out the door.

It was cold out, but he was too distracted to focus on something as superficial as the weather. Now that his head was clear, the full implications of what Pam had confessed hit him hard, and it made him nauseous. He collapsed in a heap on the curb.

The most sickening part of it was that he now had no idea what the true extent of Jim and Pam's relationship was. If he was capable of making a move on Pam a month before her wedding date, he was capable of anything. The two of them were together five days a week from 9 to 5 for... three years now? There was no telling what else Jim had done in that time span. The opportunities for him to have hit on her were innumerable.

Roy kept finding memories stored in his mind, moments he had deemed at the time as insignificant that he finally saw for what they really were. There was this one time a year or two ago... he came into the office to talk to Pam, and there was Jim. He was behind the reception desk, half-crooked over her, _holding her hand_. They were laughing and whispering together like a couple of love-sick teenagers. It had shocked him at the time, but Jim said it was nothing. Just something stupid. Office pranks. And Roy had believed him. Or what about the time that a rumor was going around the office that Jim once had a crush on Pam? Roy had even confronted him about that one, he remembered. He had told him that they were cool because Jim was a good guy, and that crush ended a long time ago. Son of a bitch probably had a hard time keeping a straight face during the conversation.

Roy had been so blind. So blind to the jerkoff who was spending forty hours a week a few yards away from Pam, hitting on her, making her laugh and smile, leaning over her desk and flirting shamelessly. The same jerkoff who was responsible for Pam breaking up with him, twice.

Kenny came outside, his hands deep in his pockets.

"Are they going to call the cops?" Roy asked.

"No, I paid them off," Kenny said.

"The jet ski money?"

"All of it."

The anger rose up again in Roy's face, but it was a different kind of anger this time. It wasn't passionate and fleeting. It wasn't the kind of anger that you can let out by punching a pillow or screaming into something. It wasn't something that just bubbles up, needs an immediate release, and then goes away. No, this was the kind of anger that bided, waited, and sought the opportune moment.

"I am going to _kill_ Jim Halpert," Roy said. Musicality hung on that word: _kill_. Like an artistic declaration. His countenance remained still, and his hands didn't roll into fists. It wasn't a statement said meaninglessly when you lose your head. It was a statement said with an ominous tone of apathy, like a vow of premeditation, and it commanded respect.

"Does this guy Jim have a girlfriend? You could hook up with her if he does. Poetic justice," Kenny suggested as he kneeled down next to his brother.

"Poetic justice, my ass. I don't want goddamn justice. I just want to bash his freaking head in." They sat together in silence, a comfortable silence shared between two brothers.

"So what are you going to do about it? Just go into work on Monday, and 'bash his freaking head in?' Probably get fired?"

"No," Roy said, staring off into the parking lot as he gently shook his head. A frown of distaste crossed his face. "I'm going to wait for the right time, and I'll make him sweat first. He knows what he did, and I'd guess it's worse than I can imagine. Yeah... I'll make him real nervous first, make him afraid that I might know what he did on Casino Night. _That's_ when I'll bash his freaking head in." Kenny nodded in agreement, and patted his brother on the back.

"I'm really sorry about all this, man," he said.

* * *

Pam shut the front door behind her, and leaned against it for a moment. Her knees gave in, and she fell to the floor, crying and blubbering into her sleeves like a little girl. That _hadn't_ gone the way she expected. She always knew that Roy was the jealous, hotheaded type, but a reaction like _that_ was more than her wafer of an emotional grip could handle.

Was it so wrong of her? She had fallen in love with Jim, and she kissed him back that night. But now, there was no hope for them being together, so she tried to move on with Roy. She was obligated to tell him what had happened if there was any chance of them making it. Well, there was no chance of that now.

Pam wiped her eyes, and collected herself. She was going to be stronger than this. _Fancy New Beesly!_ She laughed at the thought, happily remembering that conversation all those months ago. Just thinking of Jim made her swoon, and now without the distraction of Roy, it was going to be harder for her to forget him. But those were worries for another time. She stood up, and made herself a cup of tea after changing into a pair of pajamas. She cuddled up on the couch, and resolved to watch a movie to distract her, just for a moment, from all the inescapable drama of her life.

Her collection of DVDs was rather sparse. Roy used to get them all the time, so she barely ever bothered. Once they broke up, he kept most of them. Fingering through the dozen or so DVDs, she finally decided on Moulin Rouge.

The tea was soothing, and the movie didn't let her think of her own messed up love life since the messed up love lives of the characters were so engaging. Movies were always more romantic than real life, Pam thought to herself. Or at least, this story was: Ewan McGregor and Nicole Kidman's characters were in love with each other, but Nicole Kidman, a courtesan named Satine, had to hide their affair from her high-paying suitor, the Duke. It wasn't the most realistic movie, especially evidenced by the random dance numbers every other scene which made her think for a moment what a musical out of Dunder Mifflin would be like. It made her laugh, a welcome relief.

About an hour and a half later, the Duke found out that Nicole Kidman and Ewan McGregor were in love, and told her that if she didn't stop seeing him, he was going to kill her lover. Nicole Kidman decided to lie to him for his own good, and told him that she just didn't love him anymore in order to save his life.

"Satine, what are you doing?!" Pam yelled at the TV. "Just _tell_ him that the Duke is going to kill him!" Her sudden outburst brought Pam rushing back into reality.

Roy had smashed up that bar pretty badly, and as long as she'd known him, she couldn't remember ever seeing him so angry. _Should I warn Jim that Roy knows that we kissed?_ Pam asked herself. She sat on the couch, her tea mug in hand, and thought it over in silence as the movie became increasingly unimportant.

_No, I don't need to tell him_, Pam decided. _At most, Roy will just yell at me some more._


	2. Only Her Answering Machine

"Let me go make that coffee," Jim told Karen as they opened the door to his house and huddled inside to the comfort of warmth.

"See, _that_ is why I hate wearing dresses. My legs get so cold when I have to go outside," Karen said, following him into the kitchen.

"Yeah, I hate wearing dresses too. They just make me feel so exposed," Jim said, smiling at his own joke, but Karen didn't laugh. The coffee was already on, and Jim made a mental note to thank his roommate for knowing him so well as to want coffee at this hour. "How do you take your coffee again?" he asked, turning around to face her as he poured some coffee into a mug. She sighed, and crossed her arms. Her lips twisted into a sideways slant as she looked up at him with big eyes, asking him with her gaze to read her mind.

"How many times have we gone over this?" Karen said, giving him the same caring but disciplinary tone his mom used to use with him.

"I know, I'm sorry. I just can never remember. I'm convinced that Dwight's Battlestar Galactica talk all day has permanently damaged my ability to tune in to people. All my brain knows is how to tune out." Karen smiled a little. "Just tell me once more."

"Just sugar," she answered, leaning against the counter, and unfolding her arms. He mixed the sugar into the mug, stirred it, and pushed it across the counter to her as he began to mix his own. "Thanks," she said with a smile, and kissed his cheek.

This was the part of their relationship that he couldn't get used to. At work, it was all okay because they had to be professional, or at least that was the excuse for never being close to her during the day. But once work was over, she could kiss him, and she took advantage of the opportunity. It felt awkward, like something forced by the standards of having a "relationship," but to do so much as show any hint that he felt that way would be a suicide mission– or at least it would mean the maiming of his sleep cycle again.

"So was tonight as bad as you thought it was going to be?" Karen asked as Jim took a sip of his coffee.

"Would've been better if I wasn't thinking the whole night that I was dating the hussy of Dunder Mifflin," Jim teased. Karen finally laughed, and pushed his arm a little.

"Oh, c'mon! You gotta admit that I got you _good_," she said.

"Yeah? Well, I should tell you something then. I dated Jan once. And Kelly, and Angela, and Meredith, and Phyllis, and ... Kevin. Jealous yet?" Karen smiled warmly, and put her coffee down on the counter. She wrapped her arms around Jim's middle, sighing into his shirt and leaning her head into his chest. There was that awkward feeling again. What was he supposed to do? Should he hug her back?

In an absolute paragon of perfect timing, Jim's cellphone began to ring. Karen let him go, and tended to her coffee as he fiddled through the pockets of his suit jacket.

"Hello? Oh, hey Kevin," Jim said as he answered the phone. Karen held back a laugh jouncing in her throat.

"What a coincidence. It's your ex!" Karen whispered.

"Hey, Jim. You would NOT believe the stuff that happened tonight," Kevin said in his usual monotonous voice. He sounded even more boring on the phone.

"Yeah? Everyone have fun at the office while we went to the CFO's?" Jim asked, picking up his coffee mug, and pacing about the kitchen. Karen distracted herself with a piece of mail.

"We went to Poor Richard's, all of us," Kevin said.

"Oh, great. Skip out on work to go get drinks while I'm _not_ there. Thanks, Kev," Jim joked. "So what happened? Please tell me that someone convinced Angela to get drunk."

"No. We were all just hanging around, and something happened between Pam and Roy." Jim immediately got an excuse ready to get off the phone. He didn't think he wanted to hear this. "They were talking about something, Roy might've said your name, and then he just went CRAZY. He started yelling at her, and I think they broke up. He and his brother tore the bar apart, smashing stools and throwing everything at the walls. It was some _scary_ stuff." Jim stopped dead in his tracks, and almost dropped the coffee mug in his hand. He placed it on the counter, and glanced at Karen out of the corner of his eye. She wasn't paying any attention. As inconspicuously as he could, Jim left the kitchen. He couldn't rush or Karen might get that something's up. He kept his strides slow, steady, and small, appearing aimless until he finally reached his bedroom.

"Is Pam okay? Is she still there? Can I talk to her?" Jim whispered into the phone as quietly as he could while still being audible to the other end of the line.

"No, she left right after they started breaking stuff," Kevin said.

"So she's okay then? She didn't get hurt... right?"

"Uhh, let me think... Yeah, she should be fine," he answered. Jim released the taut breath choking him as the restriction of panic fled his system, and relief consequentially pulled in with the emotional tide.

"Oh, alright. That's good," he said, faking a tone of indifference. "Wait, what did you mean by 'Roy might've said your name?'"

"Well, I thought he said your name. They were talking, but I wasn't paying attention until he said _something_ pretty loud. I didn't totally catch it. I thought he said, 'Jim can't onto who?' And then he just... started yelling."

"Oh...? Well, thanks for telling me. Sounds like it must've been exciting. I'll see you Monday then?"

"Yeah, enjoy the weekend. Later."

"Bye," Jim said as he snapped his cellphone shut. He stuffed it back in his pocket, and returned to the kitchen.

"So what did Kevin want?" Karen said, tossing the piece of mail onto the counter and taking a sip of her coffee.

"He, uhh, was just telling me about how they all went to Poor Richard's after we left for the cocktail party. You know, people got drunk and stuff. Listen, uhh... This day has just totally worn me out. I really just want to head off to bed, but...?"

"Oh," Karen said, the sound of disappointment springing off the word. "Well, yeah, that's okay. Call me sometime this weekend, yeah?" She finished her coffee in a few gulps, and left the mug in the sink.

"Do you want me to give you a ride home?"

"Are you kidding? You've had a long day, and it's only two blocks. I couldn't possibly let you drive me. So yeah, you should definitely get some sleep," Karen said, walking to the door.

"I guess I'll talk to you tomorrow or Sunday," Jim said as they reached the front door. He held the door open for her, and just before heading out, Karen pecked him on the lips.

_(these kisses are supposed to be habitual and feel natural, but every time...)_

They exchanged good nights, and Jim shut the door behind her. He kicked off his shoes, threw his suit jacket onto the couch, and loosened his ties. He rushed to the phone, and dialed Pam's cellphone number, fumbling over the buttons in the hurry. Dial tone.

"C'mon, c'mon, Pam... Pick up... What the hell happened tonight?"

"Hi, this is Pam! Leave a message, and I promise to get back to you." He hit the redial button. Dial tone. Answering machine. He cursed under his breath. Redial, dial tone, answering machine. He finally gave up, and hung up the phone.

Jim collapsed face first onto his bed. What was he thinking? Kevin had already told him that Pam was okay. He couldn't call her without making it obvious that he was trying to extract information. But his mind was a freeway of questions, and he couldn't approach her at work or Karen might flip off the handle. He smiled into the pillows as he remembered not to overlook one of the best bits gathered from Kevin: Pam and Roy broke up. It didn't really matter whether or not Pam was single since she wasn't interested in him either way, but he hated having to see her taking comfort in another man's arms.

_(but, hypothetically, if Pam _was_ interested...)

* * *

_

Pam woke up during the credits. She yawned, and stretched out every joint in her hands and feet, giving them a good wake up. It still wasn't that late yet, but Pam was never one to stay up past midnight and the day had been a trying one.

She turned off the TV, and dragged herself to her bedroom. Sitting on the night table was her cellphone, and the screen blinked. Three missed calls and no voicemails. Roy, obviously. Without checking who had called, she turned off her phone, and climbed into bed.

* * *

Jim Halpert had always hated Mondays. Always. They took the "Worst Day of the Week" prize every week, and the other competitors never had a chance. The weekend was his time to feel like Jim again, his time to remind himself his life didn't revolve around paper, and Monday was always the day that ended that necessary recharge. Mondays to him were like the alarm clock that interrupted a _really, really_ good dream. So when Jim found himself looking forward to Monday and thankful that it had finally arrived that morning, he knew that his life had truly become backwards. There were just so many questions that needed to be answered, and he had resolved to talk to Pam about them.

As he got out of his car and made his way towards the elevator, he started to draw up strategies. His first chance to talk to her without Karen being around would be the first thing in the morning. Pam always got there early, but Karen didn't always get to work before Jim did. If she wasn't there yet, he could talk to Pam. If that didn't work out, he could always catch her while she was in the break room or if Karen went herself. His last resort: inconspicuously ask Pam to meet him somewhere else, although the obvious danger in that tactic was that Karen would see him ask.

The elevator doors rolled back, and Jim walked into the office. There was Pam behind her desk, whiting something out, but as he put his coat on the coatrack, he saw that Karen had already arrived. Damn.

"Morning, Pam," he said with a smile. Pam looked up, a little surprised, but flashed him that addictive, sweet smile of her's.

"Hey, Jim," she said. He sat down at his new desk– really, it was his old desk since it had belonged to him before Ryan took it– and watched both ladies from his peripheral vision in hopes that one of them could give him a chance to talk to Pam alone.

The hours passed mercilessly. Pam wouldn't go to the break room, and Karen refused to leave the room either. He was starting to think that he would have to use his last resort, however dangerous it was, when Karen finally got up to go to the bathroom. As soon as he saw the ladies' room door swing shut, he pushed his chair back, and was on the verge of sitting up when Roy walked in the room, past reception without a sideways glance at Pam, straight to Jim's desk.


	3. The Perfect Moment

Jack of spades on queen of hearts. Four of hearts on five of clubs. These were the thoughts of the idle entertainment, the paradoxically boring entertainment, Pam relied on during the work week now that her old partner in crime had resigned himself to a new hobby of keeping up a relationship with his girlfriend. She couldn't really hold it against him as much as she wanted to, but she also couldn't restrain her wandering thoughts from that area in her memories of happy times with Jim, those times she looked back on with bittersweet aches of fondness. She wanted him to lean over her desk again and for the two of them to brainstorm about a new scheme to pull on Dwight, a scheme that would become an instant Jim-Pam patented classic. But those days were gone now, and the worst part of it was her inability to forget when they _had_ existed.

Pam sat in her chair behind reception, and played Solitaire absentmindedly with her chin cupped in the hollow of her hand, a loose lock of honey hair fluttering over her right eye. She heard the front door open, and turned away from her card game in order to greet the guest. At least it was something to do. But when she looked up to find Roy, all she wanted to do was crawl under the desk. Why was he so predictable? He did something he regretted, and here he was, on cue to come beg for forgiveness. It might've worked for him in the past, but she wasn't going to be so weak. She had made a resolve. She got her stoic face ready as he got closer to her desk... but no... he kept walking _past_ her desk? Kept walking, walking... straight up to Jim.

Without a thought, Pam stumbled to stand up out of her chair in sudden panic, her heart racing to the beat of a snare. Fear incapacitated her ability to think, and left her only standing at her desk, petrified with terror.

"Halpert!" Roy called. Jim turned towards him, looking more confused than anything else.

"Roy?" he said, befuddled.

"How's it going?" he asked, punching Jim lightly in the arm.

"Uhh.. okay, I guess," Jim said.

"Yeah? Do you watch basketball? I mean, I know you're really good at playing. I still can't live down that game where you kicked my ass. But do you watch the games?"

"Mhm, definitely do."

"Must be getting pretty excited for March Madness then, huh?"

"Yeah, yeah sure. Place a few bets, the usual."

"It used to Pam's least favorite time of year. All I'd do is sit on the couch all day with my buddies and drink beer. Drove her up the wall! So... uhh, Michael asked to know when the new shipment came in, so could you tell him it got in this morning?" Roy asked. This was so strange. He was acting... amiable?

"Alright, man. Will do," Jim said, nodding his head in an attempt to bring an abrupt end to the conversation.

"Okay, thanks," Roy said. He began making his way back to the door, pausing for a moment in front of reception. "You okay, Pammy? You look a little scared," he said. He flashed her a sardonic smile, and left. Pam followed his movement with her eyes until he was gone, the fear in her gaze devolving into distasteful confusion. Once the door shut behind him, her eyes met Jim's for a moment. She dropped her chin, and sat back down, turning back to her game.

"Well... _that_ was strange," Jim said just loud enough for Pam to hear. She looked back up. Was he talking to her? Yes, he was. Caught off-guard, she laughed nervously.

"Yeah, totally. I uhh... I don't think I've ever seen Roy be so friendly with you."

Jim bit his lip, and quickly looked back at the bathrooms. Karen was still gone. He stood up, and walked over to Pam, folding his elbows over her desk.

"Hey, listen... do you think I could get a chance to talk to you later?" he whispered. Pam tried to hide the smile threatening to reveal itself, the corners of her lips curling slightly.

"Yeah, sure. Do you want to talk at lunch?"

"No, no. Karen can't be around. Would you mind staying after work, and I'll pretend to leave until she's gone? Then I'll come back, and we can talk." Pam nodded her head, and Jim sat back down at his desk just before Karen reemerged from the ladies' room.

* * *

Roy ate his pizza with the other warehouse guys, throwing a comment into the conversation every once in a while just to give the appearance that he was okay. As much as they were his buddies, he didn't need them to butt into this business because if he didn't pull if off right, he could lose his job– although, that was a risk he was easily willing to take for the chance of massacring that little weasel. Darryl heartily slapped him on the back.

"So our man got dumped again, huh?" Darryl said.

"Yeah, yeah. But you know what? I'm actually doing okay," Roy said. He took a sip from his Coke, and nodded his head at his comment to create the illusion of sincerity.

"What happened? Did she give you an actual reason this time?" one of the other guys asked.

"Uhh, well... My brother and I got a little too drunk on Friday, and she didn't like the way I was behaving. I snapped at her, told her to stop trying to control me. Apparently, she didn't appreciate my temper."

"Man, that's a weak ass reason to dump someone you been with for so long," Darryl said. Roy shrugged his shoulders, and the conversation progressed onto another topic. He wanted to tell them how much he hated that deceitful asshole, how much he anticipated the moment when he'd finally be able to knock him to the ground, how much he wanted to but couldn't avoid the thought of Jim locking lips with _his_ fiancé, and how much he had to refrain himself from just fucking killing him when he had seen him earlier in the day. But he had to wait. He had to be patient. He had to wait for the _perfect_ moment to just fucking kill him. It was a rare day when Roy Anderson was willing to not act on instinct in order to plan things out, but this was one of those days. Because it had to be the _perfect_ moment.

* * *

"Alright, I'm going to head out," Jim said to Karen as he stood over her desk, and put his coat on.

"Okay. I'm going to leave in like two minutes," she said with a smile. "I'll see you... tomorrow?"

"Yeah, tomorrow," Jim said as he left. Walking past Pam's desk, he threw her the slightest glance, and she knew exactly what question he was asking her. She nodded her head almost unnoticeably. Yes, she would wait for him to come back. She would be here.

Jim got into his car, and drove to Starbucks. He got a coffee, and drove back to Dunder Mifflin. It was almost 5:20, so Karen would've surely left already. As he parked again, he sat in his car for just a moment. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. How could he talk to her without making his feelings totally obvious? And on a more unavoidable matter, how could he talk to her without reliving all of those memories with her that had made him fall in love with her in the first place?

The elevator doors creaked as they slid open, and Jim walked back into the office. There was Pam, as promised. And everyone else had already left. He suddenly got butterflies in his stomach. _Oh, God... what am I doing?_ he thought to himself. Pam looked up at him, and smiled.

"So... what could possibly motivate you to come _back_ to work on a Monday?" she asked. Jim laughed for a moment, and leaned over her desk.

"Kevin told me what happened at Poor Richard's," he said. Pam's smile faded, and she brushed a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. "I was just... I mean, I was wondering if you were okay, if you wanted to talk about it at all." Jim swallowed his indecision, his Adam's apple pointing out sharply for a moment.

"I think I'm okay. Or at least, I've been trying to be. Roy's just... h-he's always had a temper, but I've never seen him act like that, you know?"

"Yeah, I know what you mean..."

"I can't even explain what happened. It was all so sudden. I was just talking to him, and I told him something I thought he'd be upset about. But I couldn't believe his reaction. He smashed a mirror, and I just... I was so scared that I told him it was over right then, and went home. And then when he came in today and was acting so nice to you, I wasn't sure if he was trying to tease me or something? Like he's trying to imply that it was immature and rash of me to break up with him when he's capable of being so nice..."

"Have you talked to your mom about it?"

"No, you're actually the first person I'm talking to about what happened," Pam said, smiling up at him in an embarrassed sort of way. Jim smiled back.

"Well, you know what? It's all going to be okay," he said as he straightened up. "You're independent now. This whole thing has made you stronger. You broke up with him, and you haven't gone back on your decision. You made a choice in front of everyone, and you were firm. It takes a lot of guts to do what you did, and I'm proud of you, Beesly." She laughed as her eyes began to turn red, and her face flushed. Her eyelids flickered shut as she tried so hard to restrain the tears– tears of relief, of fear– that threatened to spill in front of Jim. She couldn't help it. Two fat drops of water squirted out of her tear ducts, and ran down her cheeks as she began to sniffle.

His smile broke, and sadness overwhelmed him as he watched her begin to cry. Without a thought about Karen, about his wounds from last May, he went around the desk, and pulled Pam out of her chair into an embrace. She clutched his lapels by her fists, and cried into his shoulder, letting every bad moment she had ever had with Roy escape her mind. It wasn't even a cry of true grief, but rather a cry of the last remnants of an enduring burden finally sifting away.

Pam stopped crying, but kept hold of his lapels, not wanting to let go. And Jim held her back, his grip gentle but secure. It was the perfect moment. She released his coat after a few moments, and rubbed her eyes dry with her fingers. Jim's hands lingered on her hips for just a moment, but he retracted them to his pockets as he noticed himself.

"I've missed talking to you," she said, smiling again at last. Jim loved that smile, and couldn't help returning it.

"I've missed talking to you too. It's just that Karen is so paranoid..." Pam nodded at the comment. Paranoid. Like... it was inconceivable that he could have feelings for her.

"How _is_ everything going with Karen?" Pam wanted to smack herself for asking that.

"Okay," he said as he nodded and put on a smile.

As they stood in silence, Jim wanted to ask her what they had been talking about that made Roy suddenly explode, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Was it nervousness? No, it was that he was afraid of the answer. Either way, if Pam had wanted to tell him all the details and what caused Roy to trash a bar, she would've told him just now. It was obviously something private, and when it came to a private topic between Roy and Pam, he was sure that he didn't want to know.

"I'm sorry if I got snot on your coat," she interrupted his thoughts. Jim looked down at his lapels.

"Nah, don't be sorry. If you did, I shall treasure that snot forever." Pam laughed. "C'mon, I'll walk you out."

* * *

He watched Jim open the car door for her, smile as she got inside, and shut it. Jim stood aside. She started the ignition, waved one last time to him, pulled out of her parking space, and left. He watched as Jim stood there, his hands in his pockets. His head was bowed, he rocked on his heels, and breathed silently. All he did was stand there, not even turning to get into his own car, and there was an unmistakable smile on his face. He watched as Jim absorbed the moment he had just had. _With Pam_.

_Patience_, Roy reminded himself, sitting in his truck, as he gripped the steering wheel tighter until the skin on his hands burned. _Patience_.


	4. A Confession Over Cookies

_Don't look at her. Stop watching her from your peripheral vision. Stop it! She just looked at me. For a second. Maybe she was looking at something else, actually. She's looking at me again. Can she tell how hard I'm trying not to watch her? Okay, seriously, stop. Karenkarenkaren. Think about Karen. Karen's nice, isn't she? And she's really pretty. Karen is a nice girlfriend who has been there for me when I needed her. She didn't reject me. She has feelings for me. Karen has feelings for me. Pam doesn't have feelings for me. Dammit, she's not looking at me anymore._

Jim Halpert wished it were possible, if for just a moment, to forget that the love of his life was sitting a few yards away, and forget that the love of his life didn't seem to understand that they were meant for each other. He couldn't see how everyone else in the room seemed to find her as nothing more than ordinary. How could they all be so blind? Why weren't they fumbling over her, practicing imaginary conversations with her in front of the mirror? Out of the corner of his eye, she wrinkled her nose at an itch, and swiped a finger at the bangs hanging over her eye. Why was that gesture so perfect? And why didn't anyone else notice?

He couldn't help remembering what it had been like to scoop her into his arms and kiss her all those months ago. That one moment in which they had belonged to each other. It had been here... right here, in this spot next to him. It was a magical concept that if he could rewind to that day, this is where he'd be. It was like being blocked from a moment only by the illusory barrier of time. Because if time didn't move, he would always be here, at his desk with Pam, holding her, kissing her.

"Hey," Karen said. She leaned on his desk where Pam was supposed to be pressed against as he kissed her, and the memory dissolved.

"Hey," he greeted back, quickly shaking every thought of Pam out of his system.

"Ugh. So I am absolutely bored out of my mind. Let's do something after work."

"Sure. Yeah. Did you have anything in mind?" Jim asked. Karen's eyes brightened, but she held her smile under restraint.

"I don't know. I figured we could have a nice, romantic evening together, go to a fancy restaurant. Then you can come back over to my place, and I'll make you desert." He couldn't help it. His eyes wandered left of her ear, and caught Pam watching them, her lips pursed together and her eyes sorrowfully soggy. She quickly turned her gaze towards her computer.

While his mouth uttered a response, his heart faltered at the broken look that was in Pam's hazel eyes. It stung him somewhere deep in his chest to see her small face laced with anything but her beautiful glow of laughter. The sadness slipped away from her expression the second she looked away, but something unperceivable in her remained melancholy.

_Why am I still doing this? Why am I still pushing Karen away and trying to welcome Pam when she isn't interested? I've reached out to her so many times. There's no point in dwelling over her any longer... I mean, I could try again, theoretically. No, I won't. Well, she'd have to reach out to me for once. But what am I supposed to do? I can't stop thinking about her, looking at her. Just catching her eye for a moment is enough for me to withdraw from Karen. I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I don't know...

* * *

_

By the end of the day, Pam felt like a gray lump of misery, and she couldn't even blame someone else for all of her problems. They were completely her fault. She couldn't blame Karen for swooping into the picture to take a single man. All she could do was mope, and it made her sick to be so useless. But seeing Karen lean against Jim's desk, overhearing them plan an intimate date together for after work, and watching Jim move on were unendurable feats when she was still stuck in the past.

"See ya, Beesly," Jim said as he took his coat off the coat rack. He headed towards the door. _Courage and honesty, Pam_, she reassured herself.

"Jim?" At the sound of her call, he turned around and made quick steps back to her desk. She had itched to talk to him all day, and this felt like the right time now that Karen had already left.

"Yeah?" He looked down at her, his lower lip drawn in slightly under his teeth. She massaged her long fingers in nervousness, and remembered the weight that was lifted from them the moment she returned the diamond ring she had once worn.

"I wanted to thank you for helping me out last Monday." She let out a large breath of relief, finally having admitted it. "You're the only person that cared enough to ask me how I was doing after what happened with Roy, and it made me remember how much I appreciate your friendship. So, thanks."

"Don't mention it," Jim interrupted.

"Let me know if I can make it up to you," she said. He ducked his chin to hide the corners of his lips folding upwards.

"Too bad I don't have any insane boyfriends like Roy that you can help me out with. Then again, I don't have _any_ boyfriends, sane or not."

"True, but Dwight's your desk mate, and he borders on insanity."

"Borders on insanity? I think he crossed that line a long time ago." Pam's cheeks turned a soft shade of red as she laughed. That hypnotizing laugh.

"Well, if I can think of a way to help you deal with your insane desk mate, I'll let you know."

"You're the one with the shredder. Can't you shred his contract?" She laughed again, and he felt the blood rushing to his feet.

"I'll see what I can do to save you from him. Night, Jim."

"Night, Pam." They smiled at each other one last time.

* * *

Karen pulled the oven door open, and bent down to peak inside, the rush of heat with the heavy smell of butter and sugar splashing her face. 

"Oh, they're _perfect!_" she called out loudly to Jim who was in the other room with a cup of coffee. She reached in, grabbed the metal tray of sugar cookies with her thick oven mitts, and pulled it out. Kicking the oven door shut with her foot and placing the hot tray on the counter, Karen relished in her accomplishment. Despite years of one horrible cooking disaster after another, she had managed not to burn the cookies on this special night. _Where there's a will, there's a way_, Karen thought to herself as she placed her hands on her hips like a defiant super hero. Everything was going just as she had planned, and minus a few butterflies, she was pretty confident with the way the evening was unfolding.

"They smell pretty good," Jim yelled from the other room. Karen shed the oven mitts, and returned to living room. She sat down next to him in the couch, one leg folded under her.

"They'll be ready to eat in a few minutes. Just have to wait for them to cool a little bit."

"Good thing I didn't eat too much at the restaurant. Left plenty of room for dessert."

"It's been a good night, hasn't it?" Karen asked, her words ignited with hope.

"Yeah, it has," Jim assured. "I can't say I appreciated the guy next to us who was coughing bronchitis everywhere, though. Nothing like the sound of a man spewing phlegm while you're eating."

"Ugh, I _know_. It's pretty much my favorite sound to hear during dinner." Jim smiled.

The small talk continued, and the moment she had planned all of this for was approaching quickly. Still, she remained confident. She imagined what his face would look like: that slow, warm smile of his, passion in his eyes, and his soft lips parting into a smile. It was going to be so great.

Karen returned from the kitchen with the warm cookies piled on a large plate that she placed on the coffee table in front of the couch.

"Wow, these are really good. I thought you said you couldn't bake?" Jim said, his words muffled by the half-masticated cookies in his mouth.

"I guess I can bake if I'm doing it for someone special," she said quietly. Jim looked up at her, her eyes deepening with seriousness, and he smiled back awkwardly. Once he swallowed, Karen slid forward to him, and placed one hand on his knee. Holding the back of his head with her other hand, she kissed him. He kissed back _(complacently?)_, and his tongue tasted like sugar cookies. They parted, and she felt the blood of her body engulf her heart.

"Jim, I need to tell you something, and it's important. It's pretty much the reason I wanted to do this tonight," Karen said. Jim nodded his head.

"What is it?" he asked. Karen quickly shot out a breath, closed her eyes for a moment, and collected herself.

"Okay," she began. "I love you." A single tremor shook over her arms as all the nervousness fled, and she was left with nothing but an elated smile on her face. But as the silence between them grew, and the shock on Jim's face wasn't mirroring happiness, Karen finally started to worry.

"I... I'm sorry," he whispered. He bowed his head, and stared down at his lap. "I can't say it back." Karen looked away, and stiffened her lips. The awkwardness suffocated them both, and left the room silent for a few moments.

"Great." Her body wanted to tremble, and her circulatory system seemed to unwind within her. Jim rubbed his eyes with his hands, and he sighed. "Maybe you should go," she managed to choke out. He didn't answer. He wouldn't even look at her. He only collected his coat, and walked out the door.

Karen sat alone on the couch for a minute, the smell of fresh cookies still hanging on the air. She felt like crying, but she sat still, breathing hard with her eyes closed until the threat of tears had finally passed. She grabbed the plate of sugar cookies, and threw the last remnants of what was supposed to be her perfect evening in the garbage.

* * *

When Jim came into work the next morning, Karen was already sitting at her desk. She kept her nose tilted down at her work, ignoring him in defiance to restore her dignity. He tried to get her to at least look at him by unabashedly staring at her, but she wouldn't comply. He gave up, and decided to just sit down. He'd try working things out with her later. 

Putting his messenger bag down next to his seat, he noticed that Pam had already laid out his messages on the desk. He picked them up to read them as he took off his coat and sat down. Two clients had called about closing a deal. A third note read:

"Someone called to tell you that it appears all of Dwight's stuff has been moved and rearranged on the desk across from Creed in case you want to convince him that he switched desks weeks ago, and just has amnesia."

Jim jerked his head up to reception, too stupefied to think. The redheaded receptionist was looking back at him, a fist held up in front of her fresh coral lips that split into a beautiful smile. Her eyes burst with mischievous delight. She winked at him before turning to her computer, and Jim forgot that anyone else existed, forgot about the girl who had openly confessed love to him sitting a few yards away.


	5. March 7, April 4

Jim set the date on Dwight's computer to April 4, and returned to his desk just in the nick of time, Dwight strolling into the office with his chin parallel to the floor and his back stiffly upright as usual. He walked up to his desk, and suddenly became very paranoid. As Dwight spun in circles, flailing his briefcase from side to side as he turned, searching for his things, Jim pretended to be too absorbed with work to notice.

"Jim!" Dwight fumed. "Where is all my stuff?"

"At your desk," Jim said. He kept his eyes locked on his computer screen, and spoke with annoyance cutting through his words of obviousness.

"No, they're not! There is nothing here except a computer." Jim sighed, leaned back in his chair, and folded his arms up over his chest.

"Look, I'm busy, and I really don't know what you're talking about, Dwight. You switched desks weeks ago, remember? You said that you needed to keep an eye on Creed's productivity, so you moved over there." Dwight stood puzzling for a moment, his brows furrowed and his opalescent eyes bulged.

"Dwight, I have some messages for you," Pam called at him, holding up some thin slips of paper. He collected them from Pam, and stood to read them for a moment.

"Wait a minute. This says today's date is April 4?"

"Yeah, so?" Pam asked as she pretended to be busy checking the voice mails.

"Today is March 7, _not_ April 4." The frustration was growing in his emphasis. Pam looked up at Dwight, and raised an eyebrow at him.

"Umm... Okay, Dwight. March 7 was almost a month ago, but whatever." Pam returned her full attention to the phone, and Dwight took cautious steps towards Creed's area of the office, still examining the date with baffled curiosity, where he found all of his things neatly arranged as usual on the desk across from Creed. He sat down, and checked the date on his computer. April 4. He leaned back in his seat, rested his hands on his thighs, and absentmindedly looked up at the ceiling as he tried to remember the past three weeks.

Pam glanced over at Jim. He shook his head, restraining laughter, as she smiled back at him, her teeth gleaming, and she curled into a ball of strangled chuckles. Jim unbuttoned the buttons of his cuffs, and rolled up his sleeves a little before turning back to his work.

* * *

"Oh, please, you _have_ to do it," Jim pleaded with Pam in the kitchen as she poured herself a cup of coffee. Pam laughed, and almost spilled the coffee on the counter. 

"Should we take it that far though?"

"Yes! Absolutely. It'll be perfect, Beesly."

"He'll talk to Angela, and she'll tell him that the whole thing is untrue. Might as well quit while we're still ahead."

"C'mon, Pam. You know them. They won't talk on company hours, and he's going to find out the truth by the time he gets home anyway. Tomorrow, we'll act like he imagined the whole thing, and that'll _really_ mess with his head."

"Alright, alright. I'll go ask him," Pam said as she left the kitchen. She went up to Dwight who was shuffling through papers and folders.

"Hey, Dwight. I was just wondering how your head's feeling," she asked, feigning sincerity. His gaze shot up at her, his bright eyes glowing like moons.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I mean since that head injury you got yesterday. Remember? That shelf fell in the warehouse, and hit you on the head. You had to go to the hospital and everything. Does your head still hurt?"

"No... I'm fine..." Dwight said, lingering over the words as if he was asking himself a question. He looked out the window, lost in thought.

"Okay, well, that's good to hear. Talk to you later then," Pam said. She walked away, and watched Dwight finger his skull like a phrenologist. Jim was already back at his desk, and Pam flashed him a large smile of accomplishment when he looked to her for confirmation on how the mission had gone.

Pam couldn't help the smile permanently stitched to her face. She tried hiding it behind tight lips, but it manifested itself in her feet dancing idly under her desk and the sparkle in her eyes. For the first time in a long time, Pam Beesly was giddy at work. How could she help it? Things between her and Jim were back to the way they were supposed to be: pranking Dwight, laughing over things that no one else could understand, smiling at one another. They were Jim and Pam again. They were the elusive pranksters, the unstoppable due, the partners in crime once more, and it brought a whole new meaning to being in a good mood. Pam reached up, and pet a loose, crisp curl of her hair, and thought about maybe softening her curls for work tomorrow. 

She wondered if something had happened between Jim and Karen. They avoided eye contact, they hadn't spoken all day, and Karen wasn't giving her dirty looks every time Jim leaned over her desk to talk to her. Although she didn't want to extract joy out of Karen's sadness, she couldn't tame the excitement and happiness welling up inside her. And maybe, just maybe... Jim was happy that they were back to normal too. _But that might be hoping for too much_, Pam thought.

* * *

The lunch hour rolled around, and Jim grabbed his ham and cheese sandwich as he headed for the break room. He bought a grape soda from the vending machine, and returned to the table in the kitchen. As he unfurled the brown paper bag with his lunch, he hoped and hoped that any minute now, Pam would come through that door with a mixed berries yogurt and a plastic spoon to sit with him just like the old days. He smiled to himself at the thought, and even found it semi-plausible. Everything today was just like the old days, and it felt better that way. He didn't even totally care that Karen was probably going to break up with him or that he was letting himself fall in love with Pam all over again. 

Jim picked up his grape soda, and began pacing about the kitchen. Yes, he was letting himself be in love with Pam, and he hadn't done that in months. He thought that he would be afraid of not having a girlfriend, Pam being single, and the two of them conspiring together like they used to, but he wasn't. This was the happiest he had felt since the day he and Pam hid Andy's cellphone in the ceiling. Maybe it was okay to be in love with her. Maybe...

_(she could feel the same way?)_

That's when Jim looked through the glass of the kitchen door, and his stomach turned over. Leaning over Pam's desk was a burly warehouse worker, his arms folded across the counter, speaking inaudible words to her. She laughed, dropped her head, and that was the most he could bear to see before turning away.

She was never going to fall in love with him. No matter how hard he tried. She would never love him. Never.

The kitchen door opened and shut, and Jim turned around to find Karen leaning against the door, her bottom lip tucked in under her teeth. She shoved her hands in her pockets, and searched the floor between them for the right words.

"I'm sorry about my reaction last night," she said. "It's just that I had this perfect plan of how everything was supposed to go, and it suddenly turned out in the last way I would've wanted it to. Has that ever happened to you?"

"...Yeah, it has," Jim whispered.

"And that's what happened to me. I'm sorry for being a rude, I was just hurt. If you can't say it back yet, that's okay with me. I'm more than willing to wait for whenever you're ready, okay?" Jim looked up at Karen. His eyes were sullen, satiated with empty pain. He was hardly able to keep himself together, his heart shattering just a bit more every second he saw Roy and Pam talking together at reception behind Karen. She didn't understand,

_(did she ever feel like she understood him?)_

but he coiled his arms around her waist, nonetheless.

"You have no idea how glad I am to have you," he said. And he had meant it. Just not in the way Karen would've wished, or in the way that she interpreted it.

* * *

Pam sat at her reception desk, setting the phone to automatic voice mail. She had seen Jim go into the kitchen earlier, and decided that, yes, Ms. Fancy New Beesly was going to be a big girl, and make the move to sit with Jim for lunch today. But as she began to standup, Roy came into the office, and leaned over the desk. 

"Hey, Pammy," he said in a morose murmur.

_(and don't call me Pammy)_

"Hi, Roy," she said in such a halfhearted attempt at politeness that she couldn't even convince him. He knocked his fists on the desk inattentively.

"I'm really sorry for how I reacted at Poor Richard's. Okay?"

"I don't want to talk about this here, Roy," she said. Pam ducked her eyes, and was waiting for Jim to come into the room to pull her into his arms and rescue her from this horribly awkward conversation.

"What's so shameful? I just wanted to apologize."

"Roy. It's over." She looked him in the eye, and her voice was stern. Roy smiled.

"Yeah, okay. I understand. But I really am sorry, and I wanted you to know that." Pam smiled. Was he being sincere? "I mean, Kenny and I _did_ kind of go fucking crazy, didn't we?" Pam laughed, and leaned into her elbows against the desk.

"Yeah, just a _tiny_ bit," she said sarcastically. "Thanks for apologizing though. That's really mature of you."

"So did you tell Halpert how I flipped?"

"I... no, I didn't tell him that you know what happened." Roy pulled away from his desk, and rubbed the back of his neck. Pam couldn't read his reaction... It was a strange mix between contemplation and some kind of unusually wry grin.

"Okay, well, uhh... I'm glad we straightened things out then. See ya, Pam." With that, he turned around, and left the office. Pam stood up out of her chair, but paused halfway between reception in the kitchen. On the other side of the door, Jim had his arms wrapped protectively around Karen's waist, and they were smiling at each other like ... a couple.

She must've forgotten that she was standing in the middle of her workplace, her arms fallen limply to her sides, and her cheeks flushed with the promise of tears. She didn't know what to do or where to go, who to go to. The look of heartbroken shock, of hollow insides, was unmasked on her face. It didn't take long before she felt completely exposed in front of everyone, and fled to the stairs that led down to the ground floor.

Pam didn't cry. She didn't. She only sat down on the steps, hugged her knees, and breathed into her plain brown skirt.

* * *

"So everything's okay now?" Karen asked. 

"Yeah, definitely," Jim said.

"Okay, so I need to ask you something."

"Go ahead."

"I don't want to sound clingy or jealous or anything, but why did you switch desks a week or two ago? I mean, it just seems like an inconvenience to switch desks when there was nothing wrong with the one you were at before, and it only made a difference of what, two feet?"

Jim wasn't sure he could answer honestly without mentioning that he's a creature of habit, his old desk held good memories of sideways glances shared with Pam, and that it gave him a better view of the receptionist.

"I guess I just missed my desk back from my pre-Stamford days. If you want me to switch back, I will."

"Would you?"

"Sure."


	6. Safety Training

**Author's Note**

I usually hate author's notes in the middle of a fic. I find them to be unprofessional, superfluous, and distracting. They take you out of the mindset of reading a story. However, I found it necessary to give you one final warning. **From herein, this story will incorporate spoilers regarding future episodes**. No, I don't have any secret spoiler source, just the internet, but if you're one of those people who insists on not knowing _anything_ about future episodes, you may not way to continue.

For the record, I know very little, and will incorporate very little of the spoilers I know. This fic isn't my prediction, just an exploration of a possible storyline that, in order to keep as true to the show as possible, will use basic information known about future episodes in doing so.

--the author

P.S. The reviews are amazing, but because I've already established my abhorrence for author's notes in the middle of a fic, I'll gush over how fantastic and supportive you guys are once I've finished the story.

* * *

There are some pains you inflict on others that can't be excused by any kind of noble cause. You can try to justify it, but in the end it just comes down to looking out for yourself. Jim felt completely selfish acting the way he was, and there were too many times when he had considered giving up. As much as he was sure that Pam didn't feel for him the same way he felt about her, he was sure that she deeply wanted to be friends with him again. In the conference room, she would sometimes lean over a little, and whisper a joke to him. He wanted to laugh and volley back, but he saddled it into a bemused smile. He had to pretend that he was uninterested in their friendship. For all her attempts to get close to him, he spoiled them until they were futile. Jim hated himself for doing it, and he hated himself for being the cause of Pam's disappointed eyes above the smile that poorly hid her hurt. 

She was too warm and sweet about it. He could tell that she never blamed him, and it sickened him to take advantage of her kindness. She forgave all the times that he ignored her, avoided her, and brushed her off. He almost wanted Pam to hold it against him because he knew that he at least deserved that much, but every time she only smiled at him understandingly despite the sorrow wound up in her irises. Had any other guy treated her like shit the way he was, he would've had the insatiable urge to attack the bastard.

_(perhaps that's why he used to make a point of avoiding Roy while Pam was still engaged to him)_

And here he was. Jim was that guy now. Jim was taking Pam for granted. He refused to melt under the sound of her bright laughter the way he knew any sane man should.

It was an uphill battle to get over her. At night, he had to turn his thoughts away from Pam, and focus them in on Karen. But when she came to mind, he couldn't help but feel something undefinable missing from her. Yes, she was beautiful, independent, and up-front. She enjoyed pranks as much as the next girl, and for most guys, she would be perfect. But... she didn't giggle childishly and then get embarrassed over it. She followed him in his pranks; she didn't help orchestrate them and add a new dimension to his schemes that he couldn't have gotten on his own. Karen rolled her eyes with a halfhearted smile when they were at the supermarket and he dared her to make an announcement over the unguarded PA microphone. He couldn't help but compare her to Pam because he couldn't help but remember everything he was missing in not talking to her.

But what was he supposed to do? Since he had seen Pam and Roy laughing together at reception, he knew all too well that they would probably get back together. Pam was always like that: make a decision, be bold, get scared again, and redact the decision.

_(like Casino Night)_

No, he couldn't allow himself to have feelings for her. For her to get back together with Roy while he still loved her would be too painful to endure again, too much like she was saying "I can't" again.

* * *

It had been a month since Pam saw Jim and Karen reunite and make happy lovey-eyes at each other in the kitchen. After that moment, their prank on Dwight was forgotten, Jim moved back to his desk that faced away from her, and they went back into their I'm-going-to-pretend-you-don't-exist mode. Pam tried to talk to him, she honestly did, but he didn't seem to want to talk to her. It wasn't his fault, and she knew that. He had a girlfriend now and a promotion to think about. She understood that he didn't have time to play petty jokes on people, no matter how much she wanted him too.

"Attention, everyone!" Michael announced to the office one morning in April. "Darryl from the warehouse wants us to attend their annual safety training seminar."

"Is this really necessary?" Stanley mumbled.

"Yes, Stanley, it is very necessary. He told me that some of you have been disrespecting the warehouse staff, and I think that we all have a thing or two to learn about how difficult their job is. In fact, I'm ashamed of all of you. Pam, for instance," Michael said as he turned and pointed at Pam. A look of confusion split across her face. "She disrespected the warehouse staff when she publically dumped Roy at a bar in front of _everyone_."

"I think the disrespect of the warehouse staff is referring to that time Darryl was on the ladder looking at the shelves, and you kicked it out from under him and asked him how he got so tall without a ladder," Jim interrupted, his arms folded over his chest and his feet thrown out lazily in front of him. Michael broke into a spasm of laughter, and Dwight followed, snorting obnoxiously.

"Well, Jim, that was a _joke_. And unlike you, many of us have a sense of humor," Michael said. Jim raised his eyebrows, and smiled sardonically. He glanced over at Pam, but she was caught off-guard and barely managed to smile back. Jim mentally kicked himself for not even consciously realizing that he was turning to Pam to confide in over Michael's stupidity.

"Okay, so let's head down into the warehouse!" Michael said. Everyone stood up, and began filing out of the room. Jim waited for Karen to catch up with him, and they walked together, Pam looking down at her fidgeting hands as they passed by her desk.

The office descended the concrete steps deep into the warehouse, and joined their staff sitting in chairs. A safety instructor had come in to instruct them on the proper use of the heavy machinery, what to do in case of an injury, how to administer first aid. It was dull as was to be expected, but Michael rolled around in his seat and moved restlessly like a hyper child in school. When the safety seminar finally ended, Michael jumped up in front of everyone, and stood next to the safety instructor.

"Thank you very much for the safety seminar. Now that we've all sat through _that_, why don't you give us an office safety seminar upstairs?" Michael suggested.

"Uhh, well, that's not really necessary. I have some pamphlets about safety in the workplace to distribute, but there's not much else," the safety instructor explained. He passed out the pamphlets to everyone, but Michael was relentless.

"Are you suggesting that safety in the warehouse is more important than safety in the office? Because without the office, there would be no warehouse!"

"No, I'm not suggesting that. There's just not very much to say about safety in the office."

"Well, you're giving us these pamphlets, so there must be something."

"There's nothing that isn't already in the pamphlet."

"So come upstairs and read the pamphlet to us! Alright, c'mon everyone. We're going upstairs for an office safety training session. C'mon!" Michael ushered them out of their seats, and led them back up to the office.

"Mike, do we have to attend? We have a lot of shipping to do," Darryl asked as they headed up the steps.

"And we had a lot of sales to do. Since we attended the warehouse safety training, you guys have to attend the office safety training." With the spring of those on death row, the warehouse staff and office workers filed back up the stairs into the office. The warehouse employees had no where to sit, and were forced to all fit themselves on the reception couch. Everyone else returned to their desks, while Michael stood beside the safety instructor, his hands on his hips, listening attentively.

* * *

After ten minutes of the safety trainer just reading off what was in the pamphlet, everyone returned to their regular work, much to the dismay of Michael. Jim was in the kitchen, drinking a cup of coffee, when Roy walked into the room.

"Halpert! What's up?" he greeted.

"Hey, Roy," Jim said, only glancing at him for a moment before staring into his cup of coffee. He couldn't look at Roy in the eye. He was still bitter over how he could've taken a woman as unforgettable as Pam for granted, how he could've yelled at her in Poor Richard's. Jim was sure that if Pam had ever given him so blessed an opportunity as to date him, he couldn't find it feasible to treat her as horribly as Roy had.

"Coffee, eh? Pretty good idea. Need it to stay awake after _that_," Roy said, pointing over his shoulder at the safety training session.

"Hah. Yeah, I know."

"So... I guess you probably heard by now that Pam dumped me at Poor Richard's."

"Uhh, yeah. Yeah, I heard that. Sorry, man." He wasn't really sorry.

"Ehh, it's okay. I'm just glad she's not mad at me over everything. She refuses to give me another chance though," Roy said. Jim's ears perked up, and he tried to restrain the arousal of his curiosity.

"Oh... So, you guys definitely _aren't_ getting back together?"

"No, I don't think so." Jim immediately began reevaluating his strategies. If Roy and Pam _definitely_ weren't getting back together, what was the harm in talking to her a little? What was the harm in laughing at her jokes? There wasn't any harm in it, and his head filled with all of the new opportunities he now had to create new inside jokes, new pranks, new memories _with Pam_. "But on the bright side," Roy began, "at least I _know_ why she broke up with me this time." He hunched his shoulders as he laughed. "Back in May, she wouldn't even give me a reason for calling off the wedding. All I could get out of her was, 'I just have to get out of this relationship.' Crazy, right?"

"Yeah, that's totally Pam."

"Well, you guys were pretty close back that. She must've told you the real reason for calling off the wedding."

"Uhhh," Jim paused. He shifted slightly in discomfort, his back leaning against the counter. "I transferred to Stamford before she broke off the wedding, so she never really talked to me about it. Yeah, so I don't know why she called it off." Jim had contemplated more times than he could count as to why Pam called off the wedding. Every time, he was led to the same conclusion: Casino Night. But Jim refused to face that possibility. That couldn't be the reason. She didn't care for him, and he knew that. Casino Night couldn't be the reason.

"Ohh, right. You transferred like a month before the wedding. Yeah, I even remember the last time I saw you before you left. It was that... uhh... that _Casino Night_," Roy remembered. He had put an eerie emphasis on the words "Casino Night," but Jim blamed it on his overactive imagination.

"Casino Night? Oh, right! Yeah, that Casino Night. Now I remember." Jim was completely transparent, and he knew it. How could he pretend to forget _that_ night?

"It's funny because now that I think about it, after that night, she started acting really distant before she eventually broke up with me. Yeah, it was pretty much _exactly_ after that Casino Night. Strange, huh?" Roy watched every movement Jim made. His lips were tight, he nodded his head mechanically, and he wouldn't look at Roy in the eye for more than a second. Roy's smile was searing with hatred.

"Well, I should get back to work. I'll see ya... uhh later," Jim said, moving past Roy towards the door in an unusual rush.

"Okay! Take care, Halpert," Roy said, patting Jim on the back as he hurried past.


	7. A Volunteer Police Sketch Artist

"Happy anniversary!" Karen said, throwing her arm around Jim, and planting a kiss on the side of his neck.

"Happy anniversary," Jim echoed. He held her steady with one arm wrapped around her back, his hand in a fist. As they parted, she held out her gift to him. He took it and thanked her, but she insisted that he open it in front of her. Still standing in the parking lot next to Karen's car, he put his messenger bag down on the ground, and unwrapped the gift. It was Call of Duty.

"I swear, I'm teaching you how to kick ass at this game. You'll love it once you learn how to play," Karen explained. Jim smiled, and thanked her _(complacently?)_. He held out a bag to her.

"From me to you," he said. Karen's face glowed. She opened the bag, dug through the tissue paper, and pulled out a red wool sweater. It was beautiful and just her style, but she didn't look too pleased.

"Jim, I'm really sorry," she said, putting the sweater back in the bag. "But I'm allergic to wool."

"What? Since when?" he asked.

"Since always. I've told you before, but I guess you didn't remember." The last half of that sentence came out with the slight flavor of distaste.

"Oh, wow. I'm really, really sorry. Well, keep it, I guess. You can return it if you want or something. I'll try to make up for it." Karen put the bag in her car, and they walked into the building together, a couple for six months today. As they passed through the glass doorway, hips swinging simultaneously, Jim thought of a gift Pam had given him for Christmas. The gift of a prank. And he couldn't help comparing it to what Karen had given him.

* * *

Jim and Karen entered the office, but something seemed to be going on. Everyone was huddled around Phyllis, Angela had a disgusted look on her face, and Kelly had her arm over Phyllis' shoulder in a gesture of comfort.

"What's going on?" Jim asked Pam.

"Someone flashed Phyllis in the parking lot," she said. She was making that face she always made when she was holding back a laugh lest she be caught in a rude faux pas. Jim wanted to laugh too, but he maintained decorum, only allowing Pam to see the humor in his eyes and no one else.

"Phyllis from Sales," Dwight addressed, coming forward with his hands gallantly placed high on his hips. "I shall dedicate myself today to finding the culprit of this heinous crime." He pulled a small notepad and pencil out of his shirt pocket. "Now, can you give me a description of the exposed phallus?"

"Dwight! C'mon, that's gross," Michael interrupted.

"Well, it's a common question in these types of proceedings. I know from my years as a Sheriff's Deputy."

"_Volunteer_ Sheriff's Deputy," Jim corrected. Dwight glared at him in frustration.

"You know, Dwight, I actually spent some time as a Volunteer Police Sketch Artist," Pam said. "If Phyllis gives me a description of what the flasher looked like, I can draw a wanted poster."

"Ugh! Pam, what you do at home is your own business, but I for one do NOT want to see any erotic sketches of yours hanging around the office," Angela scolded.

"I think she meant a sketch of his face," Jim explained. Angela tried to glare him into submission, but turned on her heel and returned to her desk.

"That's actually a pretty good idea, Pam. Phyllis, you tell her exactly what the perpetrator looks like, and I'll dedicate my day to protecting the women of this office from anymore flashers. I promise, I shall find this criminal."

"You know what, Dwight? That's actually a really good attitude," Michael said. "Because women are frail and defenseless. In fact, I think that we should spend the day appreciating the women of this office. Women: can't live with them ... until... you're without them."

* * *

Michael swept the women off to a place where, in his words, they could run free: the mall. By noon, Dwight was already cracking down on the case of the parking lot flasher. He had plastered dozens of Pam's police sketch all over the office, the warehouse, and the rest of the building.

Jim spent the morning thinking of a way to make it up to Karen for forgetting her wool allergy. He thought about having a bouquet of flowers sent to her during the day. Small gestures like that made her feel special, so that might help to mend the mistake he had made. But honestly, was it that big of a deal that he had forgotten she was allergic to wool? It couldn't be any worse than getting someone a gift because _you_ like it. No, he didn't want to be harsh on her. It was the thought that counted...

He went to the kitchen to have lunch as he thought things over. He was looking in the freezer, not even thinking about what he was doing, and when he closed it, he saw a wanted poster taped to it. At that moment, Jim had to resist the urge to smile from ear to ear.

Pam had drawn a perfect portrait of Dwight for the wanted posters. She had taken the artistic liberty of adding a half-grown mustache to his upper lip and taking away his glasses, but it was still a spitting image. In large letters above the sketch she'd done, it read, "THIS MAN IS A PERVERT!" Had Dwight not even realized that the police sketch Pam made was of him? And now, he was hanging them all over the entire building. What a classic prank. She was so... great. But he held himself back a moment. Karen. Six month anniversary. Roy and Pam laughing with each other.

"_Oh... So, you guys definitely _aren't_ getting back together?"_

"_No, I don't think so."_

Caught in a jumble of thoughts and torn between his instinct of self-preservation and the equally powerful force of his feelings for Pam, Jim only managed to smile awkwardly, and mumble, "That's really cool." He left the kitchen with his hands in his pockets, and returned to work.

The girls returned from the mall after three, and when they came into the office, Victoria's Secret bags in hand, Jim realized he still hadn't called to order those flowers for Karen. He thought of calling the florist and asking them to deliver some flowers tomorrow. He picked up the receiver and held it to his ear, listening to the unchanging pitch of the phone. He looked up at reception, Pam stuffing her Victoria's Secret bag under the desk, and resettling herself.

Jim hung up the phone, and walked up to her.

_(Oh, God. If this wasn't falling off the wagon..)_

"Hey, Pam, I just wanted to tell you that I loved the wanted poster you made," Jim whispered quickly, leaning in closely to her from over her desk. She looked up at him, startled. Her cheeks turned a soft red hue before she laughed.

"Oh, yeah. I umm... thanks." She smiled at him. And he smiled back.

"Pam. Question," Dwight said as he approached the desk, staring down at the notes he had taken throughout the day on his notepad. "Are you sure that the man Phyllis described had a mustache? Because I've gotten one or two calls, but everyone says that the man they've seen doesn't have a mustache." Jim snorted at Dwight's oblivion.

"Oh, no! Did I give you the wrong sketch for the posters? On the first sketch, I made a mistake, and gave him a mustache by accident instead of glasses. I must've given you the wrong copy," Pam said. Her voice didn't falter with the hint of laughter, and Jim admired how convincing she was.

"Well, thank you, Pam. That little mistake might've derailed my entire investigation, and I hope you're happy," Dwight said. He walked away, his airs of sternness following him, and the pair burst out laughing as soon as he was out of hearing range.

"Impressive, Beesly," Jim said.

"Thanks." They exchanged smiles, and taking slow steps away, Jim sat back down at his desk. _No, I won't order the flowers_, Jim thought. _They'd have to go through Pam, and I don't want to give the wrong impression... whatever the wrong impression is_. Pam was too flustered with happiness to notice Karen glowering at the beaming smiles she had just shared with Jim.

* * *

_Just chill out, Filipelli_, she thought to herself. But it stung. Pam had so easily coaxed that brilliant happiness out of Jim, and she couldn't do the same without a sincere effort. Pam had gotten Jim to confess love to her without even trying, and she couldn't get him to do the same when she confessed it first. Pam kept up with and added to Jim's pranks without even talking to him, and she had to work hard just to be a step behind him. Why did she get the irksome feeling that Pam was better at being Jim's girlfriend without even dating him? She shouldn't have to feel this way, especially not on _her_ anniversary. And what did Pam have that she didn't? Pam wasn't forward, honest, independent.

At the end of the day, she and Jim were waiting for the elevator, smiling to each other across the awkward silence. They still hadn't gotten past this after six months? The elevator doors opened, and they stepped in.

"Please hold it!" a voice from the office called. Pam hurried across the hall, and jumped inside just before the elevator doors shut. The three of them stood, waiting for the elevator ride to be over. But Karen knew this was her opportunity.

"So what do you want to do tonight for our anniversary?" she asked, turning to Jim. She wished that Pam's back wasn't facing them, just so she could see her face. Although, her back did seem to tense under the weight of the comment.

"Oh... Um. Don't really know," he said with a quick nod of the head.

"I can come over to your place. I'll buy some flowers."

"Oh. You mean you didn't get the ones I sent you?" he interjected. Karen was suddenly confused. He had sent her flowers?

"You... sent me flowers?"

"Yeah, to make up for forgetting about your wool allergy." Karen wished he hadn't brought that up in front of Pam. "You didn't get them?"

"Oh, no I didn't."

"Shoot, wonder what happened." Jim looked up at the ceiling. Why was he acting like this? It was strange, almost like he was

_(lying?)_.

"Well, it's the thought that counts, and all that," Karen said sweetly, shaking the thought out of her mind. She hugged Jim's arm, and he smiled down at her. The elevator doors opened, and Pam rushed out into the parking lot. And as the three of them went to their respective cars, Karen could've sworn she saw Jim look back over his shoulder at Pam, that helplessly hurt look on his face. A face of...

_(a broken heart?)

* * *

_

Was he sadistic? The term was used so loosely, he hardly knew what it meant anymore. While it had once been used in psychological fields to describe the appetites only possessed by those like Alex from _A Clockwork Orange_, it came to be known in contemporary vernacular as the general joy found in hurting another person. In almost all situations, no, he wasn't a sadist. He'd feel like a complete asshole if he hurt someone like Darryl or Pam.

In the case of Jim Halpert? Well, Roy wouldn't go so far as to call himself a sadist, but he couldn't deny the demonic grin on his face every time he watched the fucking jerkoff squirm at the mention of his broken engagement to Pam or Casino Night. In fact, he relished _so_ much in Jim's discomfort over the subjects that he made a point of mentioning them nearly every time he got the chance to speak to him. Mind games to make up for the ones plaguing his own thoughts. Whenever he saw him, his mind flooded with memories of Jim and Pam smiling, talking, laughing– so blatantly flirting–, and he hated how blind he had been to lose Pam and how blind he had been not to see-through Halpert.

Whenever he saw Jim, he felt blind with all the blood rushing to his face, his fists clenched, and the burning need to strangle him parched Roy's gut. So a little fiendish happiness received out of merely watching the guy writhe in the face of what he'd done? It hardly made Roy a sadist. Although, the anticipation that fueled him towards that perfect moment in which he'd finally be able to smash his skull into a wall– well, the promised reward of delight he would extract from that moment was _a little_ sadistic. But until then, oh, how he _loved_ watching Jim squirm.


	8. Wish You Were Here

When she laughed, he had no choice but to smile. She had a number of different laughs, and each one evoked a particular range of admiration from him. He had to admit though, he had a favorite laugh of her's. It was the least common one, and he could remember every occasion on which she had let it out. She'd begin laughing like a sequence of hiccups were in her belly, the volume not yet reaching her vocal chords. Slowly, the sound would seep from her throat, and she'd hunch over like the time-elapse of a moon flower sealing shut at dawn. Sometimes, she'd hold her half-curled fist at the seam of her lips against her soft, porcelain cheeks. Her heart-shaped lips would split apart to reveal the tip of her tongue sticking out just a tiny bit, tucked between her clenched teeth. The sparkle of her hazel eyes would hide behind her eyelids, squeezed shut, but the glimmer still hung on the tips of her eyelashes. He loved that laugh, a laugh that was almost inaudible, but the joy overcoming her evident in every pore of her presence.

Pam laughed like that this morning, and Jim felt his heart hitched in his throat. The blush of her cheeks matched the pale peach blouse she was wearing. Her amber curls grazed her skin as they tumbled in front of her forehead, curtaining her face as she slumped over in laughter. With one elbow propped up on her desk, acting like a pedestal for his chin as he picked out jelly beans with the other hand, Jim laughed too, mostly because it made him so happy to see her like that.

It was moments like this one that had been the deciding factor for Jim: for the past week, he had come in early every morning to spend some extra time with Pam while the office was still vacant, and Karen hadn't arrived yet. It might've seemed wrong to deceive his girlfriend like this, but was there anything that wrong with it? All they did was talk for fifteen minutes, make stupid jokes, and plan petty pranks. It wasn't Jim's fault that Karen was so paranoid and insecure that he had to resort to these measures in order to socialize with his best friend.

Sometimes when Pam passed his desk on the way to reception, she would flash him a seductively secret smile, and despite the slight pang of conscience he felt in those moments regarding Karen, he still knew that he wasn't doing anything wrong. But those sensual smiles Pam would slip him when Karen couldn't see... they were intoxicating. They reminded Jim of the looks two secret lovers stealthily show each other– until he reminded himself that Pam didn't feel like that about him.

* * *

Around eleven, Jan came into the office, her lips drawn tight and her elbows stiffly holding her purse up against her. Her thin eyebrows were angular in severity, and the little geniality she was capable of did not evidence itself in her confident march into the room this morning.

"Hello, Pam!" she said with the over enthusiasm of a liar. "Where's Michael?"

"He's in his office. Do you want me to tell him you're he–" Before Pam could finish her sentence, Jan was already at the closed door of Michael's office, knocking. She opened it at his permission, and through the open slats of the blinds in Michael's window, Pam saw a look of horror pour over him at her entrance.

"I have to talk to you, Michael," Jan said before she shut the door and closed the blinds.

"What do you think they're talking about?" Jim asked Karen, taking a bite of his ham and cheese sandwich, as they ate lunch in the break room.

"I don't know," Karen said. "Maybe they're still arguing from that fight they had two weeks ago."

"I hope not... they're good together." Karen almost choked on her Diet Coke.

"Wow. Didn't expect to hear that from you, _especially_ regarding Michael and Jan," she said with a laugh.

"I don't know," Jim blushed, masking it with laughter. "They've had a lot chemistry between them for a long while now."

"I wouldn't know. I just transferred here, so I didn't see the chemistry."

"Yeah, well. People like that should just get together and stay together, not let obstacles get in their way." Jim stared down at the table, masticating the bite of sandwich rolling around in his mouth. _Get together, stay together_. Life always seemed simpler than it was when spoken of with mathematical fluency. Or... maybe it really was that simple.

"This is weird," Karen said.

"What is?"

"We've been dating for six months, and you never struck me as a romantic before."

"Yeah, that's ... weird." Jim took a sip of his grape soda. Karen, having finished eating, got up, and left Jim to his thoughts with a kiss on the crown of his head.

He stayed sitting at the table in the empty break room, his eyes focused upon some blank spot on the wall as four years worth of memories relayed in front of him like the mythological final flashing of your life before your eyes in that last moment. He wasn't a step away from death, but he felt himself at a precipice, one that he had stood on the edge of before. The same precipice that had caused him to rearrange everything he once knew as truth, just so he wouldn't have to be standing here again.

Almost a year had gone by, and he was still was in the same spot. It was kind of like that song he used to listen to a lot in high school, that great song. He remembered May nights of his senior year, driving around with his friends and without a destination, the windows rolled down. They'd blast that song, singing the chorus at the top of their lungs, each breath filling them with the magic of the complete gospel of youth: _We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year, running over the same old ground. What have we found? The same old fears. Wish you were here.

* * *

_

Jan left Michael's office and Scranton without a word to anyone, and he didn't come out for hours. Pam watched him from reception as he stood at his window, looking out over the parking lot like the emperor over the spoils of admirable territory. But it wasn't a sight for his eyes, just something to do with them as his mind attempted the trying task of sorting its scattered thoughts. Pam knew that feeling, and she hoped Michael was okay.

Karen got up from her desk, and migrated to Jim's, sitting on the edge of it.

"Hey," she said, beaming with a smile.

"Hi!" Jim said, compensating being caught off guard with fake eagerness. Pam watched without watching, her eyes never shifting from her computer screen but her attention never shifting from the conversation in front of her.

"You know, I decided that it's really cute that you're so romantic."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. But the fact that it surprised me? I don't know. Maybe we should be more romantic with each other."

"Maybe," Jim said with a quick smile before he averted his eyes.

"Everyone," Michael interrupted, stepping into the office with his face tilted towards the floor and his hands in his pockets. Jim was sure there must've been a God because no timing of Michael's could've been more perfect. "I have an announcement," he said gravely.

"Is something wrong, Michael?" Pam asked.

"Corporate... is firing me," he said. Silence fell over the office. He looked up at them with bittersweet pain in his eyes and halfhearted smile. "They're bringing in some new guy who used to manage at OfficeMax, and I'm out by the end of the week."

"We'll fight the power!" Dwight said, jumping up from his chair, a fist thrown in the air. "And if this is about what happened between you and Jan–"

"No, it's not, Dwight," Michael interrupted. "She wasn't even the one who made the decision, the CFO was." He shuffled his feet against the long fibers of the carpet.

"But... why? What happened?" Pam asked.

"The company's dying," he answered. "The Scranton branch, Northeastern, is one of their last hopes, and Corporate didn't feel I was fit to run it in such crucial times." He paused. No one had ever seen him so sincere. "It's been an honor working here all these years." He turned around, and headed back into his office.

"Michael? Michael!" Jim called at him before he shut the door to his office.

* * *

As the hours passed and the end of the day approached, there was too much hardship clinging to the surfaces of the file cabinets and minds of everyone that gossip, chitchat, and pranks were too lighthearted for the employees. Most kept to themselves, only speaking when it was imperative. No one could've anticipated this shock, and while they had all humored the idea in their imagination once or twice, they found themselves weighed down with the reality of fulfilled wishes. No, none of them wanted this. Regardless of all of Michael's antics, his mistakes, and his social clumsiness over the years, they couldn't have honestly hoped for something so unsettling. They all had to admit it: in their heart of hearts, they liked Michael, no matter how insane the notion.

Pam set the phones to automatic voice mail promptly at five, and left the building. As she walked across the parking lot to her car, she spotted Jan. She was still here? Leaning against the trunk of her car, she smoked a cigarette, and rubbed her arm unconsciously with the other hand.

"Jan?" Pam said. She looked up, and thought about stomping out the cigarette and leaving at that moment without a word. But her own cluttered emotions kept her rooted to the spot. Pam took it as a welcoming, and she approached Jan's car, leaning against the truck with her.

"Did Michael tell everyone?" Jan asked. Pam nodded her head in silence. "Is he still crying?"

"He didn't cry in front of us, so I guess not."

"Well... at least there's that."

"Why is Corporate doing this, Jan?" Pam asked, looking up at Jan.

"It's strictly business. Michael's had an unorthodox management style for years now, and the company can't afford that in times like this. Strictly business, that's all." Jan took a long suck from her cigarette, smoke pervading the air exhaled from her nostrils.

"Is that the excuse?" Pam bit back. She was surprised at her own uncordial remark to her superior, but Jan didn't flinch.

"Believe it or not, Pam, I tried to save his job. I fought for him. I didn't want this," Jan whispered.

"But... the huge fight you guys got into...?"

"I know, I know. Does that fight really matter though? Not really, not in the long run. I love him, and no matter how mad I was at him for what happened... I just..." Jan stopped in her thoughts. She put a hand on her hip, and turned halfway towards Pam, smiling at her with a gentility the receptionist had never recognized before from Jan. "I had the chance to see him whenever I wanted because I worked with him. There was so much comfort in that, and he comforted me when I needed it. We're not going to work together anymore though, and I won't have the same luxury of seeing or talking to him everyday. I may never see him again. Do you know what that's like when you love someone? I ... How can I explain it?"

"No, no," Pam interrupted. "I understand completely. I really do," she whispered. "Maybe it's not too late though. Even if you couldn't save Michael's job, there's still the chance of saving things with him before the fallout from the fight becomes something permanent. If you fix things with him now, at least you'll have that."

"I might not be ready to fix things yet."

"If you don't do it now, you'll regret it for a long time. I promise," Pam said. The two women stayed leaning against the back of Jan's car, side by side, two parallel figures in understanding of each other.


	9. The Consequence of Memories

He pushed back the sleeve of his suit jacket to reveal his watch. Friday, May 18, 2007. 4:42 PM. Michael Gary Scott only had eighteen minutes left at Dunder Mifflin. He smoothed the folds of his jacket, and hung his thumbs on his belt loops, looking out at the parking lot from his window. To the far right was his car, the top down because it was a beautiful day out, in its usual spot. On Monday, someone else would be parked in that spot. In his spot. Well, a parking spot hardly mattered compared to everything else he would be losing by the end of the day.

Michael folded his arms over his chest. He turned around, and looked at his desk. It seemed so bare with all of his little toys and personal items packed away in boxes that sagged sadly by the door. He walked over to the boxes, and pulled out his "World's Best Boss" mug, running his thumb over the cool, smooth ceramic. He put it down on the empty desk, leaving it for his faceless replacement. After all, the title wouldn't be appropriate for Michael Scott anymore, would it?

Now was the time to say his final goodbye. Michael walked out into the office, smiling at all of his diligent employees. Phyllis, Stanley, Kelly, Karen, Andy, Pam, Creed, Meredith, Angela, Oscar, Kevin, Jim, Toby (well, maybe not Toby), Ryan, Dwight. This might be his last time seeing them, ever.

"Everyone!" he said, clearing his throat. All of them lifted their heads from their scribbling and their computer screens, turning to face their boss, a man who wouldn't be their boss anymore in a matter of minutes. "This is my last chance to address all of you as my boss, and I just wanted to say ... I'm... I'm going to miss all of you!" he sputtered as he began to blubber wildly. Dwight had tears of admiration in his eyes.

"Michael, we actually have a surprise for you," Pam interrupted. She smiled over at Angela who was standing next to reception. Michael wiped away his tears in a flash to save his dignity.

"The Party Planning Committee has orchestrated a final celebration in your honor!" Angela announced, throwing her arms out in surprise, _actually_ smiling. The others applauded and cheered at Michael.

"We've been working in junction with the warehouse all day to get this surprise party ready for you," Pam said, leading him and everyone else out of the office. "It's going to go late into the night." As they all made their way down the steps into the warehouse, Michael was overwhelmed with happiness. While once gray and bleak, it was now filled with balloons, tables covered with blue metallic cloths, a mini-stage set up with a microphone.

"We even hired a caterer," Phyllis said to him. "Everyone pitched in for this." Dwight made his way over to the sound system, and immediately began picking out tunes. Darryl gave Michael a hearty slap on the back. It was his final party at Dunder Mifflin.

People took turns at the microphone, each delivering a final farewell toast to Michael. As Oscar retold the story of the time Michael kissed him, a moment that everyone laughed at now with happy nostalgia, Angela stood next to Pam, admiring the speech next to a large set of shelves.

"I have to admit, Pam, this was a pretty good idea," she said.

"Thanks, Angela." Pam smiled, and took a sip of her champagne. "There's just one thing missing in order for it to be perfect though."

"What's that?"

"I invited Jan earlier in the day."

* * *

"I first met Michael Scott in my job interview," Dwight said into the microphone. "And I knew immediately that this was the man I wanted to work beneath. He told me a joke about a red head, a brunette, and a blonde, and although blondes can be smart and wonderful and intimidating, it was a very funny joke. I'm never going to forget this man: our boss, our friend, our entertainer. That is why I plan on proposing to corporate that from now on, we make March 15, your birthday, a Dunder Mifflin holiday!" Dwight paused for an applause that never came. "We will miss you forever Michael." Michael rose from his seat at a table in the front row, and hugged Dwight.

"Thank you, Dwight," he said. Dwight sat down, and Michael paced around the perimeter of the room slowly, taking it all in. He stopped in the very back of the warehouse, and he beamed as he took another look around at the transformation. This room alone held so many memories: the basketball game, Men in the Workplace Day (although it was really Women in the Workplace), the luau they had when he came back from Jamaica, Casino Night. He was going to miss Dunder Mifflin.

Jim walked up, and stood next to him.

"Hey, Michael," he said.

"Jimbo," Michael acknowledged, nodding his head at him.

"It's going to be really different without you here. A lot emptier."

"There were so many jokes I had left to tell," Michael said. "When I was promoted to Regional Manager, all I could think about was all the opportunities waiting for me as a boss. I imagined so many scenarios, how much my employees would admire me, and even what my retirement party would be like. But now that I actually have to leave? It's harder than I thought."

"That's what she said," Jim quipped. The two of them laughed.

"I have so many memories of this place, and I think that's what makes being fired so difficult. If I could just forget everything, not remember that I ever had all the great times I had here, leaving would be easier."

"Memories make everything harder, don't they?" Jim mumbled. He looked down at his feet, and slid his hands into his pockets. "It makes you wish, you didn't have the memories _at all_, right? So at least... you'd have the chance to move on."

"Move on?" Michael asked, turning towards him slightly.

"I mean, you know, move on from Dunder Mifflin onto new things," Jim corrected. Michael was silent for a moment.

"No, no matter how hard it is to leave, I'd never wish to not have the memories. I'd never wish I could forget," he answered. "At least I had all the great times that I did, and to forget all those times would leave me with nothing. Without the memories, I couldn't even be happy knowing what I once had. Kind of like that saying... better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all."

Jim looked up at his boss. For all of his goofiness and eccentricities, in that moment, Michael had more wisdom than Jim did.

"Michael?" a female voice called. Jan was hurrying across the warehouse straight towards them.

"Jan!" Michael uttered in surprise. "What are you doing here?" As soon as she reached him, she jumped into his arm, a giant smile on her face. Michael was taken aback at her publicity, and despite the hard feelings that still lingered from their fight, he hugged her back.

"I did it!" she laughed brightly. Jim watched in shock, never having seen the uptight Manhattan woman so ... happy. "I did it, Michael!"

"What? What'd you do?" he asked. They pulled apart for a moment as she smiled at him.

"I got your job back!" Jim's jaw nearly hit the floor, and Michael couldn't believe it. "I've been talking to the CFO all week, and he wouldn't budge on it. But then Pam called me, and said they were throwing a final farewell party for you. That's when it all became too real. So I called up Wallace, and told him I quit! And it worked! He gave you your job back so that I wouldn't quit," Jan explained breathlessly. Michael chocked on happiness, and without a word, pulled her to him in an embrace.

"Jan! You... you did it!" he clambered. Jim smiled in relief, and walked away, completely forgotten by the two of them as they made up, apologizing endlessly to each other about how stupid they had been.

Sitting back down at his table, Jim drank his beer in silence. He mused to himself how happy everyone would be once Jan surely announced over the microphone that Michael wasn't being fired after all. But his heart was elsewhere...

"_Kind of like that saying... better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all_."

Over the stereo system, Dwight put on a softer song. throughout the warehouse, the sound of a clean piano blanketed the party. The lights were dimmed, and a few couples rushed out onto the small dance floor. If Karen hadn't left a half-hour earlier, Jim knew that he would be dragged out their too as the sound of Elton John filled the room. It was "Tiny Dancer."

_Hold me closer, tiny dancer_. Jim remembered a fresh night in September spent at a Chili's. Michael had been singing his own version of the lyrics, and most of the office wasn't listening, just enjoying their drinks with friends and loved ones. Pam was drunk. _Count the headlights on the highway._ She had kissed him in intoxication that night, and he thought about how hard his heart had beat in that moment, her arms tossed around his neck as he held her. _Lay me down in sheets of linen. _Later on in the night, Pam said she had to ask him something, and they had stared at each other, both in fear of the unspoken words between them. He had felt in those few seconds that she really did love him, but they were both too afraid to face it. After Angela had driven off, Jim watched after the car with a small smile on his face because _he was in love with her._ And he would _never _be able to forget that. _You had a busy day today._

Jim jumped up, and surveyed the room. Without any sight of her, he rushed up to Angela.

"Hey, do you know where Pam is?" he asked.

"She went home about ten minutes ago," Angela said. Jim cursed under his breath, and didn't take notice of the dirty look she was giving him. He ran a hand through his unkempt hair, and made his way up the steps of the warehouse, back to the dark and empty office.

* * *

Jim sat down at his desk– no, not the desk that made him keep his back to reception. His real desk. His pre-Stamford desk. He leaned back in the all-too-familiar chair, and rested his hands on his thighs. So many memories here. He looked over at reception where Pam would be seated if it wasn't almost nine PM. How many times had he looked over in that direction from this spot? How many times did the cameras catch him looking? He thought about all those better times when he was free to look at her, and they were free to smile at each other. It brought a smile to his face before his eyes reminded him that the office was dark and empty, and Pam wasn't sitting there. Pam had already left. Jim realized in that moment that he was sadder Pam had left than he was that Karen had left.

Picking up the phone on the desk, he dialed a number. It was the same number he called a month or two ago after Kevin had told him that Roy and Pam broke up. And again, he got the answering machine.

"Hi, Pam. It's Jim..." The receiver didn't pick up a sound other than his heavy breaths as he tried to decide upon the words. "I'm sitting at my old desk, the one from before I transferred. And..." Silence again. "I'm remembering a lot of things from this angle as I look over at reception, a lot of things that I've tried to forget more than you could know." Silence. He listened to his own pauses as if he expected to hear Pam on the other end of the line. "About a year ago, I told you something, and I said that I just needed you to know it once. I guess I was wrong because once wasn't enough. Because I'm still in love with you, Pam. Every time I tried to move on, a memory popped into my head to remind me why I feel like this about you. And why I would always feel this way. I guess that's the consequence of memories. If I didn't have the memories, I could've moved on, but they're never going to let me forget how much I love you."

And with that, Jim hung up. He leaned his elbows on his knees, and rubbed his forehead with his hands. Every scar from last May tore open, and the blood was suddenly fresh again. There wasn't anything to do now. On Monday, he'd have to face a horrified Pam who'd feel too awkward and shocked to even look at him. All he could do was get closer to Karen. Even if he couldn't forget about Pam, at least he had a chance for some kind of happiness.

Waiting at the open doorway of the office, Roy had listened from the disguise of shadows to Jim's message for Pam's answering machine. The fists at his sides were tight, his nails leaving deep scars in his palms. His teeth clenched and the rage boiling again, Roy knew that _this_ was the perfect moment. He felt it just as he knew he would. It was Michael's last day, so maybe he could even keep his job, assuming the new boss never found out.

_Yes, this is the perfect moment_, Roy thought to himself as he stepped forward.

* * *

It was funny how much she could've teasingly fantasized about something like Michael losing his job and how much it could upset her now. But as Pam drove home on the parkway, she tried not to think about it because she felt the sinking sensation of guilt in her stomach when she did.

The ringing of her cellphone from her purse jolted Pam out of her thoughts, and she panicked between the decision of picking it up while driving or letting the answering machine get it. She got off at the next exit, but the phone stopped ringing before she had a chance to pull over. On an empty residential street, she parked her car on the right side of the road, and dug through her purse. Whoever it was, they had left a message. She called her voice mail, and listened to the message.

Pam couldn't breathe as she listened to Jim pour his feelings out to her. Again. And while a year ago, she might've been terrified, the New Pam got back on the parkway, and headed back to Dunder Mifflin.


	10. That Casino Night Pt II

"Halpert!" Roy called out, stepping forward into the office and out of the doorway. Jim nearly jumped out of his skin, more out of surprise than fear. He spun around and flew out of his chair in an instance.

"Shit, you scared me," he breathed.

"Oh? C'mon, why would _you_ be afraid of _me_?" Roy asked, coming forward with a forced smile on his face. Jim laughed nervously.

"Umm... It's just that you surprised me is all," he said. Jim still stood by his desk, confused by the manic grin on Roy's face. "So, what are you doing up here? You weren't ... standing there long, were you?"

"I wanted to talk to you, and I saw you come up here," Roy explained, ignoring the second question. "Why don't you sit down!" He gripped Jim's shoulder, and pushed him forcibly down into the seat with a strength that came off as a little less than friendly. Jim rubbed the afflicted shoulder, and laughed again.

"Is everything alright?" he asked.

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"You're just acting kind of strange," Jim said. Roy ignored him once more, and dragged the chair over from Jim's post-Stamford desk. He sat in it backwards, and he folded his arms in front of him, draping them over the back of the chair. He stared at Jim for a moment, piercing him with discomfort.

"I need to talk to you about Pam, actually." More piercing discomfort. "I mean, you _are_ her closest friend, and I have to get a few things off my chest. That's okay, isn't it?"

"Yeah, sure." Jim nodded his head.

"Pam was a real cute one back in high school. She wasn't the hottest chick, but she had a certain charm to her. The other guys on the team didn't really get it, but I asked her out anyway. You should've seen the look on her face when I asked her. I mean, her eyes just lit up, and she had the biggest smile. You know what look I'm talking about?"

"Yeah, I do," Jim mumbled, ducking his head.

"We dated for a few months after that. One day, I uhh invited her over to my house when my parents were gone for the weekend. She was pretty nervous, and it was cute. She actually ended up crying, telling me that she was a virgin. But I convinced her, and we had sex on my bed. I told all the guys, naturally, and they cheered me on. It was great. I'm not making you uncomfortable, am I?" Roy suddenly asked. Jim wouldn't look at him, absently shuffling his feet.

"Nope. Not at all," he lied.

"Anyway, I proposed to her around the same time that she started working here. It was her birthday, and it seemed like a pretty good gift idea to propose. So I did. I hadn't seen her so happy since I first asked her out, but after a while, I took the engagement for granted. Even though I never seemed to be _that_ into the wedding, no one knows how much I cared. The prospect of marrying Pam was just... amazing. But then she dumped me, and it sucks so much to be rejected by someone you love."

"Yeah," Jim slipped. Dammit. He hadn't meant to say that. Maybe it was his imagination, but out of the corner of his eye, he thought Roy glared at him.

"So I need to ask you one more time. Because Pam has meant everything to me for the past ten years, do you have _any_ idea why she broke up with me?" Roy fixed his gaze on Jim, and watched him squirm in that familiar way.

"I..." Jim began. He held his fist up to his mouth where the ghost of a kiss from long ago still lingered. "No, I don't." Roy nodded his head, and unfolded his arms from around the back of the chair. It might've been the fact that the office was almost pitch black except for the glow of one or two computer monitors or the fact that it happened so quickly, but Jim hardly knew what hit him as Roy stood up in a flash, and shoved him out of the chair onto the floor. Jim jumped up, and backed away with his arms held out in front of him as Roy stalked forward.

"Woah, woah! What the hell–?" Jim spat out words, but the words came to an abrupt end when Roy smashed him across the jaw. He fell backwards, and landed in Karen's chair.

"I know EXACTLY WHAT YOU DID!" Roy screamed, marching forward with terrifying momentum.

"Roy! What are you tal–"

"YOU CAME ONTO HER," Roy interrupted. He pointed a burly finger at him, and glared with the intensity of two tiny fires burning in his skull. "ON THAT CASINO NIGHT, YOU TOLD HER YOU LOVED HER, AND YOU KISSED HER. YOU FUCKING SON OF A BITCH!" Roy grabbed Jim by the collar, and tossed him into the wall of the conference room. The world became sharp and pink as Jim got hit across the face again. The blow must've disoriented him because he didn't feel himself falling to the ground. He fingered his upper lip, and found blood dripping from his nostrils.

"Woah, hold on! That was like a year ago!" Jim tried to explain.

"And if it weren't for you, I'd be coming up on my first anniversary right about now, wouldn't I?"

"Listen! I've hardly even talked to Pam since then; she rejected me."

"And yet you're still chasing after her, _my_ girl! I heard you just now, how fucking dumb do you think I am? DID YOU THINK I'D NEVER FIND OUT?" Roy pulled his foot back, and was ready to kick him in the gut. Jim jumped up, and hurled himself forward. He managed to land one hit to Roy's left eye (or was it his temple?), but he was too light compared to him and he lost the ability to breathe when he was jabbed hard in his side.

Roy had Jim pinned against the wall, forcing him to stand by the grip on his collar, and punched him in the gut until Jim was sure that he was vomiting air. Somewhere in the distance, beyond the fluids in his ears, blocking the conduction of sound waves, Jim heard a shriek. More screaming. Shouts. He fell to his knees, and grabbed hold of his head to steady himself.

The lights flickered on, and the blinding pain felt like someone dragged a knife through Jim's corpus callosum. His vision focused, and people were pouring into the office. Some of the warehouse guys tackled Roy, immobilizing him with their combined weight. Most of the others stood gaping by the doorway, blocking the artery of passage as Kevin tried to push through to see what had happened. When he realized someone's arm was wrapped around him, Jim looked up. Pam was kneeling next to him, so much terror and shock in her eyes, holding him, and wiping the blood from his nose with her trembling hands.

"Jim! Oh my God, oh my God..." she shouted in hysteria. "Can you hear me? Are you okay? Jesus!"

"My face kinda hurts," he groaned. Pam laughed, and hugged him in relief. He breathed in the scent of her hair, and rubbed his hands up and down her back.

"Get your fucking hands off her!" Roy yelled in the background. Darryl forced him into a chair, and attempted to calm him to little avail. "And you, Pam... You goddamn whore! Was it just a kiss? Did you fuck him too?!" This time, Pam had to restrain _Jim_ as he tried to jump up and attack Roy.

"Please, Jim, don't," she whispered in his ear. The feeling of her hot breath grazing his cheek and ear calmed him down, and she helped him stand up.

"Roy! Roy, what the hell's the matter with you?" Lonny said, keeping Roy down in his seat. He was panting, his eyebrows angled into the bridge of his nose, and all he could do was point at Jim in attempts to accuse him. Pam held the side of Jim's jaw, examining the bruises, and more blood dripped from his nose.

"God, let me get you some ice or something," she said.

"Halpert, I trusted you! You conniving jerkoff!" Roy shouted in the background.

"On second thought, let's get out of here," Pam added, glaring at her ex from over her shoulder. Jim nodded his head, and they left the office behind, Roy still shouting curses at them in the distance.

Rushing down into the parking lot, Pam led Jim to her car, and unlocked the doors from the keys on a ring dangling from her pointer finger. They got in, and she handed him some tissues for his nose that were in the glove compartment.

"Thanks," he said, his voice nasally from being clogged with bright blood and white tissue. She smiled, and they drove off. Streaks of cream-colored light swept across the windows of the car as they went past streetlights, and the vibrating hum of the tires along the asphalt lulled Jim into a state of peace. The neurotransmitters in his brain must've stunted the pain for now because he hardly noticed it. His nose stopped bleeding, and he looked about the car at all of Pam's little touches: there was an art portfolio sliding across the backseat, a tiny stuffed duck dangled it's chain around the rearview mirror, and the CD in the stereo was playing "Across the Universe." Every so often, she would clarify the direction to Jim's house, and they soon arrived.

Jim unlocked the front door, and pushed it open. Pam shut it behind them as they climbed inside, and helped him to the kitchen. He sat on the tile floor, leaning his back against the counter, as Pam rummaged through the freezer.

"Don't you have an ice pack or something?" she asked. She grabbed a dish towel next to the stove, and filled it with ice cubes. Pam knelt down next to Jim, and held the homemade ice pack up to his swollen jaw, a pallette of deep yellows and purples as it bruised. "Wow, it's getting pretty bad." He reached up, and held her hand with the ice pack. She froze under his touch, and he lowered the hand to her side.

"You don't have to do all this," he said with such sultry softness in his voice that Pam's heart fluttered, and he looked up into her eyes. Pam stared back, and the familiar fear of unspoken words flared up. She looked away, and sat down next to him on the floor, her long legs folded under her.

"It's my fault," she said.

"No, it's not," he argued, shaking his head. "I was the one who–"

"No, but it is." Pam swiped a loose lock of hair away from her face, and knotted her fingers in nervousness. _Courage and honesty._ "I told Roy about Casino Night when we were at Poor Richard's. That's why he flipped out." She shot out a breath, and her shoulders heaved. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know he would react that way. I was just trying to start over, and I didn't think there could be any secrets between us if we were going to make it." She searched Jim's face for a response, but he lowered his chin, and looked into his lap. Finally, he spoke, but he didn't say what she had expected him to.

"Why did you go back to him?" Jim whispered. The pain returned, but it wasn't the ache in his gut or the swelling of his face. It was a secret pain suffered for years that he made every attempt not to vocalize. It was watching Pam and Roy make up at his desk, seeing them kiss and knowing that they're still there even if he looked away, Roy finally setting a date, walking away that night because she was really going to marry_ him_, and watching them leave Phyllis' wedding, hand in hand. Feeling his heart be crushed into a pile of dust when she took him back. "God, no, don't answer that. I don't want to hear about how much you love him." Jim laughed with disdain _(at himself?)_. He stood up, and tossed the towel with ice into the sink. Pam jumped to her feet.

"Wait, let me try to explain," she said, raising her voice to get his attention.

"No, please, don't!" he said, even louder, but not with the animosity of a shout. "Really, Pam. I get it."

"It's not what you think–"

"For four years, I had to watch you love someone else. What's left to explain? Don't make me endure more by explaining _why_ you have feelings for him."

"You really don't understand!"

"Of course I don't! How can I possibly understand why you went _back_ to someone who never appreciated you the way I did? All I know is that I don't want to hear–"

Silence. The remaining words were smothered into silence as Jim caught Pam's weight against him, and her sudden kiss made him forget that there was ever such a thing as the past. She held his face in her hands, and slowly, she felt his arms wrap around her back. _You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that._ Their hearts raced in a simultaneous rhythm, and they couldn't breathe lest the moment should shatter in its perfect delicacy. Why had they ever let anything come between them? Pam released the kiss, pulling back for a moment, and Jim finally saw the sorrow in her eyes.

"I went back to him because of you," she answered in the pause. "I canceled the wedding for you, but then when you came back to Scranton with Karen, I thought there was no chance and I should move on. I went back to Roy because it hurt too much to see you with her... Oh my God, Karen!" Pam jumped out of Jim's embrace in horror, and held her hands over her mouth to stifle the gasp. "I'm so sorry!" she yelled, fumbling for her purse on the floor. "I... I forgot you were dating her!" Pam started for the door, but he caught her arm.

"Pam! Please don't go," he pleaded. He pulled her into him, stifling her struggle with his embrace and the look in his eyes. He rested his forehead against her's, and he couldn't help but notice how right it felt to have her against him, this close to him. She subdued in his arms, and blinked back tears.

"But... Karen..."

"You're here now... and I'm in love with you," he breathed. Pam smiled, and one sweet tear rolled down the curve of her cheek.

"I love you too."

She said it, _finally_. And they weren't afraid anymore. They kissed, desperate to make up for all of the time they had wasted over the years, and he lifted her off the ground in his arms. He brought her, carried her like a bride, to his bedroom, and they fell backwards onto the mattress. Pam tugged at the knot of his tie as he unbuttoned her blouse. This was the ending they never had to that Casino Night, the ending they should've had.

_(and they made love, and every breath was perfect. and he loved it when she tangled her fingers in her hair as she let go. and he collapsed into her. and her skin was soft, and his touch was gentle. and she loved him and he loved her. and they made love and it was perfect)_

* * *

Still one chapter left! 


	11. Love Alters Not

When the morning sun blared through the slits of the blinds and spread rays of pink and orange beams across the tussled sheets early that morning, Jim found himself in that hazy place between dreams and being awake. He was unsure why, but the random firings of his memory brought him to remember a class he had taken back in college on Shakespeare. There was one sonnet he had liked and accidentally memorized, and the lines came to mind again as he looked around the room and the memories from the night before came back to him. _Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,/ But bears it out even to the edge of doom./ If this be error and upon me proved,/ I never writ, nor no man ever loved._ Pam was asleep, on her side leaning against him with one arm tossed across his bare chest.

Her chest rose and fell beneath the white sheets with every silent breath, her lips slightly parted. Jim realized that one of his arms was holding her flawless sleeping figure to him, and he lightly ran his fingers across her naked shoulder. She sighed in her sleep at the gesture, and nuzzled her head against his side. Although he had caught himself imagining a moment like this on countless occasions, his imagination never had the caliber to conjure an instant as beautiful as this one.

Jim eventually managed to slip out of bed without disturbing Pam's sleep, and put on a pair of pajamas. The clock next to his bed said that it was about 7:30 AM. He went to the kitchen to prepare Pam's favorite breakfast: french toast and jasmine tea. He put on a CD of Iron & Wine because she had once mentioned how much she liked listening to their peaceful sound in the morning. He laid a single daisy on the pillow next to her sleeping head because he knew they were her favorite flower. When her breakfast was done cooking, he quickly slipped into the shower.

* * *

Pam stirred to the distant sound of hushed acoustic music and the smell of cooking food. She was confused for a moment until she remembered Michael's farewell party, Jim's voice mail, rushing back to Dunder Mifflin, finding Roy beating up Jim, screaming for help until everyone heard and rushed to tackle Roy, kissing Jim...

A small daisy lay on the pillow next to her head. A slow smile crept across her lips at the gesture, and it surprised her to remember just how well Jim knew her. She heard the shower running, and put on one of Jim's giant button-up shirts _(because she had girlishly dreamt of wearing one of these after spending the night at his house)._ She tucked the daisy in her hair behind her ear. Just as she made her way into the kitchen, Jim emerged from the shower.

"Hey, Beesly," he said, sliding his arm around her back and pulling her in. He smiled, and rested his forehead against her's. She was beginning to love it when he did that.

"Hey, Halpert," she said back. She rested her balled fists against his chest.

"Breakfast?"

"Mhmm."

"Okay, c'mon." He led her into the kitchen, and had her sit at the table while he served her the french toast and tea.

"Roy really beat you pretty bad, huh?" she remarked. The entire left side of Jim's jaw was a bruised yellow, and the left side of his nose was purple, the color seeming to extend from beneath his eye.

"My side is bruised too," Jim said, slightly lifting up his pajama shirt to reveal the damage. Pam recoiled at the thought of how it must've hurt.

"I'm so sorry," she said.

"Don't be. But just imagine: he did that to me for kissing you. What do you think he'd do if he found out about last night?" Jim said with a laugh as he sat down at the table to join her in eating. Pam didn't smile, and her eyes fell solemn.

"There are going to be consequences for last night," she mumbled. The lighthearted, peaceful mood deflated with the comment, and Jim looked up from his breakfast plate. Her hands were folded in her lap, and she stared blankly at the table.

"If you don't tell Roy, I won't–"

"That's not what I mean," she cut in. "I mean... it all happened quickly. Unless we want to end up acting awkwardly around each other again, we'll have to build a relationship just as fast to catch up." Jim smiled. _A relationship... with Pam._ She caught his gaze, and smiled back.

The doorbell rang, and Jim got up to answer it. Unlatching all the locks, he opened the door, and sudden horror churned his stomach acids when Karen was standing there. Getting so tangled in the moment had made him forget about her, and he naturally had to break up with her _(what an ass he was for not doing so _before_ he made love to Pam)._ But how he could he do it in such haste, in his doorway? _(what an ass, what an ass)_

"Karen!" his instincts gasped aloud. Her face was flushed, but her lips remained tight with such forced sternness. She studied his bruised face.

"So what Kelly called me about last night was true?"

"Huh?"

"I got a message on my cell phone saying that Roy kicked your ass." She folded her arms across her chest, and stared at him with such brutal hurt that he struggled to explain everything that had happened _while standing in his doorway._ "She also mentioned you leaving with Pam."

"A lot happened last night that we need to talk about, but now's not a good time," he said. Karen's eyes were red, but she strained to maintain a straight face.

"Did the events of 'last night' cause Pam's car to still be in your driveway this morning?" she asked, her voice cracking slightly. He looked out the door, and remembered that her car was still parked there.

"We need to talk, but please, not like this..."

"I'll be less cryptic: did you sleep with her?" Karen snapped. Jim dropped his chin, and swallowed a rock of calcified indecision. He had felt himself once before in this same kind of position with Karen, unable to answer honestly without hurting her. He rested his body against the door frame, and the answer he gave was the same as last time.

"_Yes_," he whispered. Karen nodded her head in mechanical jerks, and the morning sun caught the glimmer of her glossy eyes. She slapped his bruised cheek.

"I hope I served your rebound needs well," she said with hateful sarcasm, her voice stressing under the threat of crying. She turned around, and left with what little dignity she had left.

Jim shut the front door, and returned to the kitchen table, the once elated mood now sobered by the consequences affronting them. Neither of them had wanted to hurt Karen, but they loved each other... was it selfish?

"Did we rush this?" Pam asked herself, but the question was posed aloud. Jim felt himself shatter at her remark. Everything had worked out so perfectly. Why, _why_ did he have to date Karen? What had driven him to make such a stupid decision? But then again, he knew exactly why he had dated her.

"Jesus, please tell me I didn't fuck this up. I couldn't have, not when I've been waiting for this for so long." he said, dejected. Pam smiled in sympathy, and reached across the table with her hand, cupping his bruised jaw. She kissed him so softly, and he knew that they were meant, made rather, for each other.

"I just want this to be perfect. I don't want there to be any problems," she said.

"That's all that I want," Jim said. "So... what do we do now?"

* * *

Jim Halpert had always hated Mondays. The Worst Day of the Week. The end of the weekend recharge. The alarm clock that wakes you up from a _really, really_ good dream. So when he found himself looking forward to Monday and thankful that it had finally arrived, he knew that _she_ had turned his world upside down. And it was a new world that rotated in the proper direction, that didn't make him feel like he was bleeding his life away for the sake of paper. And he could get used to this new world when Mondays were another opportunity to be with the woman he loved _(because love alters not, and he didn't have to forget anymore)._

"Hey," he beamed, walking up to the reception desk.

"Why, hello, Jim," she said in a horribly obnoxious British accent.

"Anyone else here yet?" he asked, drumming his fingers on the desk.

"Nope." Jim slipped the messenger bag off his shoulder, pulled her out of her chair, and kissed her. She rested her arms around the base of his neck, chuckling against his lips in giddiness.

"So how long do you want to wait before we go public about this?" he asked after they had pulled apart. Pam ran the tips of her fingers up and down the back of his neck, and a current of tingling ran down the surface of his skin.

"Oh, I don't know. Not at least for a little while. I think we have to let the whole thing with Roy and Karen blow over first. I mean, everyone knows now that we kissed a month before the wedding," she explained.

"Okay, we'll wait to go to HR and all that. But before someone else comes in here..." Jim began. He kissed her again, a deep kiss. Pam's knees became gelatinous, and these were the kisses she had always fantasized about in her mind when she looked over at his desk.

"I love you," he said.

"I love you too," she said.

* * *

"Jim?" Pam squeaked, tilting her face up towards his. Saturday night, watching a dumb romantic comedy they had made fun of together, Jim lay sprawled across his couch, and Pam lay against him, one of her legs thrown over his and her head resting on his chest. A thin flannel blanket covered their hips and below. They were drifting to sleep until she spoke.

"Mhmm?" he moaned.

"When did you first fall in love with me?" At the question, he understood that he was going to have to give a real answer, not one uttered mindlessly in a haze of sleepiness. Jim sat up a little, pulling her with him by the arm wrapped around her.

"I think... you had been working at Dunder Mifflin for about six months. We were in the kitchen, planning that prank on Dwight when we soaked the seat of his chair with water so when he sat in it, it looked like he peed himself. Remember that?"

"Yeah."

"Well, we were talking about that prank when you reached across the table, and put your hand on my forearm. You couldn't stop laughing, and you looked so beautiful. When I got the butterflies in my stomach, I suddenly realized that I was in love with you. I pushed the thought out of my head almost immediately since that was when you had just gotten engaged to Roy, but yeah, that was the first time."

"For me, it was when we had known each other for about seven months. Roy had said something hurtful, although I can't remember it now. But I was crying in the kitchen after work, and you came in. I tried to wipe away the tears, but you were so supportive. You hugged me and told me that I deserved nothing but happiness, and if Roy couldn't understand that then he was an idiot. You made some little joke, and I laughed. It was then that it struck me how good to me you were, and how much I wanted nothing but to kiss you. That must've been the first time I realized I was in love with you."

"So... we were in love for three and a half years before we got together..." Jim mused aloud in thought. "Wow, I never really thought about how long it was."

"How can it be that we stayed secretly in love all that time?" Pam whispered, her eyes fluttering shut as drowsiness settled in again.

"Because love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, but bears it out even to the edge of doom," he said quietly.

"Is that... one of those dorky romantic verses... you have memorized?" Pam babbled, her mind unwilling to stay awake much longer.

"Something like that," he whispered. Jim kissed the top of her head, rubbed her shoulder, and they fell asleep.

* * *

**Author's Note**

Thank you sooooo much for all the reviews! I'm sure most of you know by now that fanfic writers have a horrendous appetite for reviews, and I'm no exception. I can't express in words how much they mean to me!

On an unrelated note, today (March 23) is my 18th birthday! So I figured I would give a gift in finishing this fic. And in case you care although you probably don't, I got accepted yesterday into my first choice, NYU! I know, I know, I'm talking too much about myself. But I'm just so excited!

Anyway, before I bore you too much, thanks again for reading! I hope you enjoyed it, and if not, I'm sorry. I tried.


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